


We All Live

by arourallis



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Some Pokemon-Based Violence, lighter and softer, nobody dies i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11054712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arourallis/pseuds/arourallis
Summary: In the world of Pokemon, not everything is as it seems. Toue Industries is the head of genetic research, and who knows what they get up to behind closed doors. An ex-experiment, that's who. Several ex-experiments in fact. Broken out by his 'grandmother', Aoba Seragaki has lived his life in relative peace, until the return of a long-lost friend brings trouble to his doorstep. Now on the run, they learn more and more of trouble Toue has been causing in Kalos, and now its their job to stop him, before he can put his plans into motion.





	1. Beginning

“Mnnn-” Aoba groans and rolls further into his sheets, but someone shoves his shoulder again.

“Hmmm, ‘more minutes,” he mumbles.

Ren chuffs in his ear then yanks the sheets away, dragging Aoba with them.

“Ren-” he groans.

He rubs the grit from his eyes as Ren crouches and whines apologetically. The Lucario leans into Aoba’s hand as he pats between his ears, and his leg twitches when Aoba scratches behind one. Aoba extracts himself reluctantly from his sheets and remakes his bed before dressing for the day and heading down for breakfast. Naturally Granny Tae was already up and cooking up a storm, and she gave her grandson no end of grief for his sleeping habits. Aoba let his Blaziken out to enjoy breakfast as well, because there was no cutting corners in the Seragaki household. It was handmade meals for everyone, every day, and all their pokemon were the epitome of health. Blaziken grumbled over the vegetables on his plate, and he was so much like his past owner it made Aoba’s heart ache. 

With Ren and Blaziken safely in their pokeballs, Aoba left for work. It's a mild morning, and the last of the dawn mist clings to the hills of Midori Island. Far over the glittering sea, the coast of mainland Kalos and Shalour City rise from the fog. The Tower of Mastery is visible even on the haziest days, and it stands out as proudly today as it has for decades. Heibon Junkshop was a simple, short walk down the hill, and Aoba waved at his neighbors as he passed. The triplets are already out roughhousing, their pokemon scampering behind them.

“Aoba-saaan!” they squeal in unison as they throw themselves at his legs.

“Mio, Kio, Nao, stop! I’ll be late for work!” Aoba struggled to push them away and avoid trampling their Zigzagoon.

One Zigzagoon yipped at Mio and tried to yank her away by the cuff of her sock.

“Aw, Ziggy these are my favorite!” she scolds and releases Aoba to pick up her pokemon.

Her brothers follow suit and chase their own pokemon downhill towards town. Aoba groans, but resumes his own commute. Heibon is in the center of the little town, with a proudly homemade sign over the door.

“Haga-san, I’m here!” Aoba called out as he entered the shop.

“Ha, I saw the triplets held you up again, Aoba-kun!” Haga laughs, carrying a heavy box out from the back.

“Ah! Here, let me help.” Aoba takes the box and drops it on the nearest table. “Is this the new shipment?”

“Yes it is! More pokeball and pokegear parts, and repair equipment, lots of replacement screens.” Haga grimaces, and Aoba understands.

“Good, I’m sick of the constant rush-orders for those. With all the young trainers we get, might as well keep a permanent stock.” Aoba starts organizing the packages to put away.

“Hah, good thing too, we have a few repairs coming in today. Your favorite kind.” Haga chuckles, and Aoba groans.

Aoba twirls a new micro-screwdriver around, and starts to set the right parts aside. It was the usual, three broken screens, a dozen viruses, ten broken buttons and one broken pokeball hinge. By the time the last customer leaves, it’s nearly dinnertime and Aoba still has to fill out the invoices. 

“Ah, it’s getting late! Why don’t you finish for the day Aoba-kun?” Haga offers.

“Oh, thanks Haga-san!” Aoba gathers his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Aoba organizes the invoices and receipts for Haga to work on later, then waves goodbye. In the town square, he lets Ren and Blaziken out to stretch their legs and watch the mock-pokemon battles around the town square. There were many young children on the island, often too young to apply for a trainer’s licence and there were rarely official tournaments on that half of the island. So, games were invented and passed down almost weekly. The latest trend was pokemon-flavored sumo wrestling, after the human version was finally broadcast from Kanto and Johto. It was mostly the likes of Rattata, Zigzagoon, and Nidoran in the rings, pushing and shoving at each other while their young owners cheered from the sidelines. Of course, on the mainland there were far more brutal fights, that one could only find if they knew the right people, who knew the right people. Aoba never participated, but he had watched from the sidelines, and he still felt ashamed of the sick enjoyment he felt at the time. Sensing his shift in mood, Ren whines, nudging against Aoba’s shoulder. Before he could pat Ren, the pokemon swiveled, ears perked and eyes trained on the far side of the town square. A moment later, a small voice finally carried over the distance.

“Aoba-san, Aoba-san!” Mio called out, running his way.

As the crowd parted, aoba saw she had someone else with her, a little girl he had only rarely seen. Mio skids to a stop, out of breath but still chattering excitedly.

“Chi’s mom is letting her get her first pokemon! Will you help up catch one?”

Aoba can’t resist their eager, smiling faces.

“Sure.” he smiles and crouches to their level, ”Do you have a pokeball Miss Chi?”

Chi grins, holding out a brand-new pokeball proudly.

“Good. There should be some wild pokemon at the edge of town, or by the beach. We should find some wild pokemon there.” 

Ren and Blaziken heard the girls along, and Chi shyly holds Ren’s paw as they walk. The town isn’t large by anyone’s standards, so within minutes buildings give way to forested hills and sand dunes. The vivid blue of the sky is fading as the sun begins to set, the horizon blushes pink and paints the clouds gold. Breaking the stillness is the raucous, harrying call of a flock of Spearow, gathering on the shore behind a dune. Ren snaps to attention, and dashes across the beach, ignoring Aoba’s calls.

“Ren, wait! What is it!” Aoba runs after him, with the girls and Blaziken trailing behind.

Ren charges the flock, and a few Pidgey among the birds scatter and return to the hills. The spearow circle back, diving first at Ren, and then Aoba. Without missing a beat Ren roars. The sharp, reverberating call drives the Spearow away, hurling abusive calls as they flee. Ren returns to Aoba’s side, sniffing worriedly at his hands.

“I’m fine, thank you Ren.” Aoba pats between his ears.

“Aobaaaa!” Mio cries, throwing herself around his knees. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. But… what were they attacking?” Aoba ponders.

A quiet whimper answers Aoba’s question. A pathetic bundle of something lies curled up in the sand, so caked in mud and seaweed it was unrecognizable. Aoba crept closer, kneeling to gently wipe off the mess and pick the trembling ball up. More sand crumbled away, revealing patches of white and green fur, and two little red crests…

“A Ralts.” Aoba’s eyes sting, and it’s not from the sand.

He cradles the poor, battered creature close, supporting its large head in the crook of his arm.

“I’m sorry Chi, we’ll have to look tomorrow. This Ralts needs to go to the Poke Center. She’s hurt, badly, and I-” Aoba’s throat tightens.

“We’ll go too! I can take care of her when she’s better, right?” Chi’s mouth is set in a determined little pout.

Blaziken chirrs, and hoists a girl under each arm and runs easily across the sand, with Ren and Aoba following. The Ralts whimpers, clinging to Aoba’s jacket with her tiny fingers.

‘I’m sorry we’re almost there. You’ll feel better soon, I promise’

Ralts startles, blinking slowly up at Aoba. It was a gift he kept mostly to himself, but at times like this psychic powers were a perfect way to calm scared, young pokemon. She can’t quite make coherent thoughts yet, she was only a baby after all, but she tries. Aoba gets impressions of hunger, thirst, loneliness, and the memory of being dropped from up high.

“Granny!” Aoba calls, bursting through the Pokemon Center doors.

“Aoba? What could you possibly-” she spots the battered Ralts, and promptly whips her nurses into action.

One of the younger nurses takes the pokemon from his arms, and the team retreats to the emergency ward. Aoba drops into the nearest chair, gritting his teeth against the headache swelling between his eyes.

“Hey, Aoba? That Ralts will be okay, right?” Mio asks, still dangling from Blaziken’s arm.

“Yeah, Granny will take good care of her. Here-” Aoba helps Mio and Chi down. “This might take a while though, you should go home before your parents worry.”

“We’’ just tell them where we are! C’mon Chi!” Mio takes her friend’s hand and drags her out the door.

With the children gone, Aoba sags back into his seat. Of all the pokemon on the planet, why did it have to be a Ralts? It had been so long ago when he found his own Ralts the same way. Not one, but two, a brother and sister found abandoned on the beach. One went with him, the other, with a dear friend… Where was he now? Aoba wondered. It was almost ten years ago, when he was taken with no explanation. They barely had time to say goodbye. They couldn’t bear to separate the Ralts siblings, so they both left, and Aoba took his friend’s Torchic in exchange. Koujaku, his friend, his protector, his hero-

“Damnit.“ he scrubs at his eyes. Now is not the time for a breakdown.

“Aoba! Our moms said we can stay here!” Mio and Chi burst back into the center.

Aoba jerked to attention, and quickly forced a smile.

“Well, if they know you’re here, I guess that’s fine.”

The girls behave themselves, to their credit, passing the time by playing with some of the pokemon waiting around with their owners. After another half an hour, Tae returned to the waiting room. The girls squealed, startling some of the waiting people and pokemon. They bounce over to Tae, babbling excitedly and trying to talk over each other. 

“Quiet down!” Tae barked.

The girls freeze, and meekly duck their heads.

“Now, that Ralts is going to be fine, she wasn’t badly hurt. We spent most of the time cleaning the poor thing.” she shook her head. 

“Granny Tae, can I, um, take her home?” Chi scuffs her feet.

“Have you already asked you parents?” Tae smiled fondly.

“Oh, yes!” Chi proudly presents her new pokeball.

“Well, that should be fine then. I’ll go fetch her.” Tae returned to the ward.

She is back a moment later with Ralts safely in her arms. Ralts coos, and reaches out to Aoba, her hands grabbing at thin air. Aoba takes her from Tae’s arms, and Ralts pats his cheeks with her tiny hands. Again, her thoughts are pushed against his own, an overwhelming pulse of love and adoration.

‘See? Safe, like I promised.’ Aoba tells her.

He kneels, and turns to Chi.

“Well, say hi!” he encourages.

Chi slides closer, extending a hand for Ralts to hold. She reaches out to take one of Chi’s fingers in each hand, flexing and spreading the digits curiously. Ralts looks to Aoba again, sending him thoughts along the lines of ‘is she safe?’

‘Yes, she is safe, and nice. She can give you a home’ he answers.

Ralts looks back, then reaches out with an ‘up!’ gesture, like any human child would make. Chi absolutely beams, gently scooping the pokemon up.

“Here, one arm under, and support her back.” Aoba instructs.

Once settled, Ralts squeezed Chi’s cheeks between her tiny hands and bumped their foreheads together. Chi held up the pokeball, and Ralts poked it curiously. After a moment, she mashed the center button with both hands, triggering the scanning beam. Ralts is energized, and withdrawn into the mirrored shell of the pokeball, which clicks. The data is processed and stored, and Ralts was fully under Chi’s care.

“I- I did it! I caught my first pokemon!” she gasped.

She hops excitedly around the lobby, pokeball held proudly aloft. A few patrons cheer and applaud along with her, including Aoba. chi turns and throws her arms around as much of Aoba as she can reach.

“Thank you so much Mr. Aoba.” she sniffles.

“You’re very welcome, Chi.” he kneels to hug her properly, “Just promise me you’ll take care of her, okay? Ralts are very smart pokemon, as smart as you and me. They deserve the same respect as any other person. And-” he leans in to whisper conspiratorially, “-one day, she may evolve into a Gardevoir. I’m sure you’ve seen Diantha, and her Gardevoir can Mega evolve.”

Chi gasps excitedly, and nodding so hard her little pigtails bounce.

“Of course, you have to be on your best behavior, they don’t let just anybody have mega stones.” Aoba pats her head.

Permits for mega stones were hard to get, taking years of forms and reviews and background checks, before one was even allowed to touch a stone. Of course, the keystones were rather expensive on their own, but the mega stones themselves could get downright mind-boggling. Of course, that was if you could find one in the first place that wasn’t a clever fake. Aoba gave up a long time ago, the expenses were just too great.

Chi and Mio leave for home, and Aoba starts to look for Tae. She’s still stuck working behind the counter, organizing a dizzying array of paperwork. 

“Go on home, I left some curry cooking. I’ll be back late.” she sighed deeply, “We have some new equipment coming in and someone has to make sure nobody dies.”

Aoba laughed, and wished his granny goodnight. The walk home is slow and leisurely, just in time to watch the sun set from their hilltop home. The breeze picks up the cool sea air, already carrying the bite of winter. Aoba shivered, and hurried the last yards home. The lock on the front door is jammed again, and Aoba makes a mental note to call someone about it tomorrow. The smell of Tae’s stew fills the house, and Aoba quickly sets about making a plate for himself, plus Ren and Blaziken. He fills a container with the leftover to bring by the pokemon center later for Tae’s dinner. Ren and Blaziken whine at the delay, trying to edge past each other and Aoba to get their food. 

“Just a minute guys, I’m hungry too. Go sit.” he chastises.

He slides a plate for each of his pokemon across the table, and Ren instantly falls on his food. But Blaziken spots bits of celery and hisses, feathers flaring.

“Don’t sass me bird.” Aoba shakes a spoon at him.

Blaziken grumbles, and flicks a piece of celery at Aoba as soon as he turns away. Ren growls a warning, crouching over the table.

“Hey, knock it off you two! If you break something again, Granny will kill-” 

A knock at the door interrupts him.

“Coming! You two, behave.” Aoba hisses.

Aoba ran to the door, awkwardly wiping the traces of sauce from around his mouth. He opens the door, and his heart stops. The man standing on his doorstep is tall and broad-shouldered, with scars thick on his knuckles and the bridge of his nose. He is travel-worn, his long black hair is a tangled mess and clothes are rumpled and stained. But his eyes, a brown so rich and vivid they almost glowed red. They were unmistakable. Aoba is just as breathless as the man must be, and it’s the man that breaks the silence first.

“Aoba,” he nearly sobs.

That voice. Even after ten years, Aoba hadn’t forgotten it.

“Koujaku?” it comes out as a whisper, as if anything louder would break a spell.

There are tears in the man’s eyes, and when the world goes blurry Aoba realizes he’s crying too. A broken sob leaves his throat, and Aoba throws himself against Koujaku. His arms are around Aoba in an instant, squeezing him tight. Time stops in that moment, and tears flow freely. After too few moments, Koujaku reluctantly pulls away.

“I’m sorry, we have to go inside, you aren’t safe.” Koujaku quickly wipes his cheeks.

Aoba nods, trying to dry his own face. He leads Koujaku inside, where Ren and Blaziken jerk to attention. Ren sniffs the air curiously while Blaziken nearly vaults the furniture in his rush to the front door. He chirrs, butting his head into Koujaku’s shoulder and neck and very nearly knocking the man flat.

“Shigure?! Wow, looks like Aoba took good care of you.” Koujaku gently scratched under the bird’s jaw.

“Koujaku, what’s going on?” Aoba fidgets. It feels almost too surreal to say that name aloud.

“I have to explain, a lot.” his smile fades, “When I left all those years ago, I didn’t have a choice. My father is the head of a gang the likes of Team Rocket, and he needed an heir. Unfortunately his actual wife could never have children, so that left me as his only option. My mother and I, he dragged us back and started training me to succeed him.”

He paused, breathing deeply.

“I thought I could wait it out, until the old man died. But, someone from another gang came for a meeting last week. He was from Toue’s underground force, they knew your name, where you lived and worked. They had pictures. He said you were an old project, and that Toue wanted you back. And they wanted my father’s connections to do it quietly.” Koujaku has to stop, and anger rolls off him in almost visible waves.

“Toue. The same Toue that built the big resort by the League and sells designer pokemon.” Aoba’s head was spinning.

“The very same. I escaped as soon as I could, I had to get here before they did. I’ve heard of what that man does, to people and pokemon. There are all sorts of rumors, about gene-splicing experiments and man-made pokemon. And… if that’s true, you may be one of those experiments.” Koujaku’s hands flinch and grip at nothing.

A bolt of panic runs down Aoba’s spine, “What about Granny?”

“I think she may have worked for Toue, a long time ago. You escaped somehow, it may have been her who took you.” Koujaku offers.

“We have to warn her! They could hurt her to try and get to me!” Aoba made a move towards the door.

“Aoba, please!” Koujaku grips Aoba’s shoulders, “I have a plan, but we need to leave now. You should bring some clothes, and supplies. We’ll be on the road for a while.”

Aoba shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts, “I’ll… I’ll go pack.”

Aoba finds his old shoulder bag, and starts stuffing it with clothes. He folds up a few shirts, an extra pair of jeans, and as many pairs of socks and underwear as he could find. The extra pockets are filled with toiletries, some repair tools, then spare potions and pokeballs. In a moment of brilliance, he also adds a flashlight and some spare batteries, then packs his wallet with what cash he has. He returns to the kitchen with his bag, plus a small backpack from his school days. He fills it with water bottles, and what packaged food they have in the pantry.

“I think that should do it.” Aoba hefted both packs.

“Good, we need to leave.” Koujaku’s face is pale and drawn, he looks so tired.

“Shit, Granny!” Aoba dropped the bags and dug into a cabinet.

“Aoba?”

“Just a sec, sorry!” Aoba filled a container with dinner leftovers, then grabbed his bags.

Koujaku took the smaller backpack, and Aoba shifted the little duffle more comfortably on his shoulder. They leave, and Aoba barely remembered to lock the door. Ren and Blaziken are on high alert, aural-ear and feather crests raised. They all run downhill towards town and the Pokemon center. Its one of the only buildings still lit at this hour, and its almost empty when the men and their pokemon bursts through the door.

“Aoba? What on Earth is-!” Tae gasps, “-Koujaku? Little Koujaku?”

She rounds the counter to inspect him, pale as a ghost.

“Yes Tae-san, its me. Not so little anymore though.” he offers a smile.

And that was true, he towered over Tae and Aoba. Only Blaziken was taller, and that was only by a few inches. Tae’s face quickly falls into a frown, and Aoba flinches.

“You have a lot of explaining to do young man! Ten years missing and you show up at this hour, looking like a vagabond-!” she scolds.

“Tae-san, I’m sorry, but I can’t explain everything now. You remember everything that happened with Toue, back then? Well, now he’s after Aoba and I’m trying to get him away from here.” Koujaku’s face turns grim, and Tae pales.

“It takes that bastard 20 years to decide that he wants Aoba after all.” Tae lowers herself into the nearest chair, shaking her head.

“Granny, what am I?” Aoba almost doesn’t want an answer.

“You should sit down, it’s a lot to take in…” Tae begins.

“I’m sorry Tae-san, but we don’t have the time, we have to-” Koujaku protests.

“Shut it! Aoba needs to know and I can be brief.”

Koujaku and Aoba sit across from Tae and wait while she gathers her thoughts.

“Years ago, I did work for Toue, studying the brains of people and pokemon. Psychic abilities in particular. There was a separate division that worked on gene-splicing, especially blending human and pokemon DNA. not long after I started there was news through the building of two successful human hybrids, followed by two more a year later. Three years after that first success they were going to reveal their project to the public, but one of those children got sick and almost died. Almost.” there’s a sly gleam to her eyes, “The sick child was left to die in a cell, hidden away while his brother was paraded to investors. Myself, and another scientist smuggled the poor child out, but my colleague stayed behind. And I came here, to raise you.”

There were tears in Tae’s eyes as she took Aoba’s hands in hers.

“I’m part pokemon?” is all Aoba can manage.

“A very small part, but yes. Toue was trying to artificially create psychic powers in humans, but they weren’t as powerful as he was hoping. Basic telepathy is all they managed to impart, at least for you.”

“That explains a lot,” Aoba forces a laugh, “But, what about you? Won’t they come after you if they can’t find me?”  
“Hmf! They can try!” Tae crosses her arms, “If they're expecting a frail old lady they have another thing coming!”

“We know that better than most!” Aoba grins, but it falters.

He hugs his grandmother close, just briefly.

“We have to go.” he sits back reluctantly.

“I know. I'll tell Haga tomorrow that you'll be gone.” Tae sighs, “You too, brat.”

She gives Koujaku a quick squeeze.

“You were always as good as a grandson to me. Keep Aoba safe or I'll have your hide.” Tae’s threat is only half-hearted.

“I really missed you too. And, I will. Don’t worry. “ Koujaku promises.

“Enough blubbering, get out of here while you still can.” she swats at both boys as she follows them out.

Ren and Blaziken hang back to say their own goodbyes, and Aoba returns them to their pokeballs right after. Koujaku and Aoba run down to the docks, but they are almost empty. The official ferries were anchored for the night, and all other boats were unmanned. Only one small skiff seemed active. The two men approach slowly, gaging the activity on the boat and at the pier. A single silhouette moved about the dock, and a faint melody rolled with the waves across the water. Once they were closer, Aoba could see the figure was a tall, gangly young man with snow-white hair. He organized packs and parcels on the pier, some tied in stacks with twine. A bulging messenger bag with the official Post office logo bounced against the man’s hip. Only then did Aoba realize this was their new mailman. Aoba had seen him about town a few times, and he seemed a pleasant enough person, he certainly enjoyed entertaining the local children.

“Koujaku, I know him. He might be able to help.” Aoba whispers.

He approaches the boat, stomping along so the man might hear. He calls out when he gets closer.

“Hey! Sorry to bother you, are you heading to the mainland?”

The man squawks and nearly tips over the edge of the dock.

“Shit, sorry!” Aoba grabs the strap of the messenger bag to pull the man upright.  
“Hah, thank you!” he laughs, setting his armful of packages down.

“I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have shouted-” Aoba apologizes.

“No, I wasn’t paying attention!” he chuckles, “Um, did you say you needed to get to the mainland? It's very late, you can't wait for the ferry?”

“We do. Something came up suddenly, and we don’t have a way to surf or fly. Were you already going there? I’d hate to ask if you weren't.” Aoba explains.

“Yes, emergencies do happen! And I was about to cast off, so really its no trouble if you tag along.” he pauses, “‘We’? Is someone else with you?”

Koujaku steps out of the shadows and waves awkwardly. “Yo.”

“Oh! Well, you can hop in too, I just have to load these last packages.My name is Clear, I just took over here since my grandpa retired.” he offered his hand.

“Aoba Seragaki.” he shook Clear’s hand, “I work at Heibon.”

“Oh, the repair shop! I've been meaning to stop by, one of my pokeballs has been acting up…”

Clear turns to Koujaku next.

“Just… Koujaku.” he mumbles, trying to suppress shivers.

The weather had taken an early Winter chill, and Koujaku was hardly dressed for it, with his thin jacket and and threadbare jeans. Clear however, it well prepared with sturdy boots, thick pants, scarf and a long coat. He finishes loading the packages, arranging them carefully in the front of the boat and then he helped Aoba and Koujaku in the unsteady vessel. The engines start with a rumble, stutter and pop!, and finally Clear pulls in the mooring lines and bumpers. With practiced ease, he guides the boat out and away from the docks and into the waters of the bay. The sea is calm that night, and the boat hardly rocks at all when they pass from sheltered bay into open ocean. Once they are a comfortable distance from island, Clear pulls a pokeball from one of many coat pockets and releases the pokemon within. With a burst of light, a large bird materializes. Its massive white wings unfurl into the salty air and it lets out a melodious call.

“Ha, and Altaria! You don't see those too often out here.” Aoba leaned on the railing to watch the the bird soar alongside the boat.

“Yes, we’ve been together a long time. But, the release button on her ball has been sticking lately. Do you think you could take a look?” Clear offers the faulty device.

“I'll take a look, but do you have more light?” Aoba eyes were already strained in the darkness, the boat’s lights didn’t provide much light to see by.

“Oh! Here-” Clear fishes an electric lantern out from under the control panel.

With better light, Aoba examines the pokeball and finds only a loose interior screw. He tightens it with a few quick turns of a screwdriver from his bag. He returns the ball to Clear, who tests the button with a bright smile before returning the ball to his pocket. Clear whistles loud and sharp, and his Altaria tumbles up and over the bow of the boat to fly beside him. A beautiful song spills from its beak, and Clear harmonizes with ease. Their joined melody rises and falls with the waves, lifting the fatigue from Aoba’s bones. Beside him, Koujaku groans, hanging over the side of the boat looking positively green. Aoba pats his back, rubbing small circles. Far across the sea, the Tower of Mastery doubles as a lighthouse, guiding them to safety.

“Oh, I hope you don't mind if I stop outside the city, we have our own dock at home.” Clear smiles apologetically.

“That's fine, great actually.” Koujaku blurts.

“Okay… well it'll just be a little longer.” Clear eyes them curiously, and steers the boat South of the city.

Just past the outskirts of Shalour, a barely-lit dock appears. Far up the shore on the sea cliffs, a modest cottage sits among the dune grass and sparse trees. Clear guides the boat to the nearly invisible pier with ease, and ties up for the night. He fetches the lantern and helps Aoba, and then Koujaku out of the boat. Koujaku made a mad dash for solid land, leaving Aoba and Clear behind.

“Sorry, I have to unload the mail. Gook luck with- well, whatever it was you were doing!” Clear waves, and resumes his work.

On the shore, Koujaku is waiting. He looks a good deal better, adn the color is back in his face. He smiles sheepishly.

“Never did do well with boats.” he sighs.

Up at the cottage, a light flickers on, casting a golden glow on the sand. A door slides open and a tall, reedy outline of a man comes out on the deck and calls to Clear. Aoba and Koujaku make their way up the beach to firmer ground, crossing through the illuminated patch. The voice above them abruptly stops. There’s the sound of rapid footsteps on the wood above, then on a set of stairs hidden in the shadows. An old man emerges from under the deck, flushed in the face and breathing hard. He stares at Aoba, mouth working desperately to form words.

“Aoba?!” he finally gasps, “Little Aoba, it couldn't possibly-”

Aoba freezes, unsure of how to respond. Koujaku tugged at his arm, trying to pull him away but Aoba didn't budge. This man knew him, and his emotions were so powerful and sincere that Aoba doesn't even need to try to sense them. Worry, relief, joy, hope..?

“How do you know Aoba?” Koujaku puts himself between the old man and his friend, eyes hard and suspicious.

 

“He was far too young then, to remember me. But I worked with his mother before she had to leave.” the man isn’t at all intimidated, but still explains.

“Um, she’s my grandmother-” Aoba pauses.

And it clicks.

“You're the one who helped us escape.” he gasped.

“So, Tae told you the whole story then. I figured she would, sooner or later.” the man shook his head, “But what are you doing out at this hour?”

“Toue’s finally changed his mind. We had to leave, before he got to Aoba.” Koujaku is still tense and shaking in the cold.

The old man went pale, eyes wide with fear.

“Clear!” he bellows across the sand.

Rapid footsteps echo back from the dock which shift in pitch when Clear hits the sand. He's with them a moment later, a little winded but more concerned by his grandfather’s tone.

“Grandpa, what-?” he starts.

“Clear, there are a lot of things I haven't told you, but I'll explain what I can. You need to leave with these two, you aren't safe here.” the doctor’s eyes were solemn and brimming with tears.

He lead Clear back up the deck stairs and into the house, speaking softly.

“Why are we stuck with him?” Koujaku seethes.

“He must be one of the other experiments. The one like me, that got away.” Aoba frowned.

He felt a little guilty for being so oddly relieved. Granny was telling the truth, and at least one more of Toue’s experiments had escaped. It made the whole situation feel more real, like he wasn't just imagining everything. But, how had someone who by all rights shouldn't exist wind up just across the sea? Did the old doctor actually know where Tae went? Did he stay close, just in case? Before Aoba could ponder and further, footsteps returned on the deck. Clear joined them, carrying a bulging pack and scrubbing his red-rimmed eyes.

“My apologies for making you wait.” he mumbles.

“It’s not your fault. I'm sorry you had to find out like this…” Aoba pulled Clear into a quick hug.

“We need to go, we've wasted enough time.” Koujaku ushers them across the beach and into the dunes.

“I know my way around here, there are lots of back trails. Toue could be watching the main roads.” Clear took the lead, face set with grim determination.


	2. The Journey

They walked for hours, skirting the lights of Shalour. Aoba silently thanks his past self for packing the old flashlight. The beam was weak, but it was just enough to keep them out of trouble. Clear and Aoba spend a good deal of time talking, but Koujaku was too cold and miserable to really pay attention. What he did notice was a faint light bobbing through the trees, following them into the woods.

“Aoba, Clear, wait…” he hisses.

The bouncing light stops when they do.

“Koujaku, what is it?” Aoba whispers.

“There, that light. Its been following us.” he points into the forest.

Aoba withdraws Ren’s pokeball and released him.

“Ren, check it out.”

Ren chuffs softly, but as soon as one paw passes the trail boundary, the light flares and charged towards them. Ren howls his challenge, dashing through the trees to meet it. There's a scuffle, snapping twigs and shaking trees before something flies out of the brush and lands in the dirt a few feet away. The weak glow from its tail and the flashlight reveal a tall yellow pokemon with cloven hooves and black-striped horns.

“Ampharos!” Clear cries, rushing to the pokemon’s side.

It isn't hurt that badly, and squirms away to get to its feet. Ren emerges from the trees, ears laid back and hackles raised. The Ampharos hisses, electricity crackling in its short wool. 

“Ren, knock it off!” Aoba tries to step between the two but lightning strikes at his feet.

The Ampharos hisses again, tail lashing.

“I've never seen her like this, she always runs away from me!” Clear looks hopelessly confused.

“Well if she want’s a fight, she's found one. Ren, Bone Rush!” Aoba commands.

Ren nods, and a glowing bone-shaped club appears between his paws. He dashes forward, elegantly dodging the Ampharos’ swinging tail and electric attacks. Once close, he strikes with hammer-swift blows at every opening. The Ampharos wails pitifully, collapsing in the dirt.

“Ren, enough!” Aoba summons Ren back into his pokeball and tucks it away.

He fished out a potion and knelt at the fallen pokemon’s side to spray her liberally with the medicine. She made a pained sound, but relaxed as the ache of her wounds faded. She raised her head, looking meekly at Aoba before sniffing her fingers. Her thoughts are less structured, and weaker than Aoba is used to reading, but he can pick out faint feelings. Lingering pain, but also gratitude.

“She's stable, but we should get her to a Center just in case…” he finds an empty pokeball and triggers the beam.

The Ampharos doesn't resist, and she's finally registered under Aoba’s ID. He tucks the ball away with the others and retrieves his flashlight. Clear yawns, and the others soon follow.

“There's a small rest station not too far from here. We can stop there for the night.” Clear rubs his eyes.

“Sounds good to me. I've had enough excitement for one day.” Aoba sighs.

It's almost another hour before they reach the station and they're all near dead on their feet. The three men stumble through the door, startling the attendant who was nodding off at the front desk.

“Will you be needing bunks?” he asked, wiping the drool from his chin.

“Yes please. And a quick heal for our pokemon.” Aoba is the only one coherent enough to respond.

The attendant puts all their pokeballs through the scanner and returns them a few moments later. He then unlocks a side room with a few sparse bunks.

“If you could strip the sheets before you leave, we’d appreciate it.” the man says as he leaves.

Clear and Koujaku collapse on a cot while Aoba actually takes the time to remove his shoes and coat. The two are out like a light, and Aoba had to strip them of their boots, jackets and bags. Then, he’s left with a dilemma. There were only two cots, and both were now occupied. He’d only just met Clear, and he wouldn’t want to cause any trouble come morning. But Koujaku? They had sleepovers all the time in the past, sharing a bed then hadn’t been an issue. It shouldn't be any different now, right? Just like old times… He slides in next to Koujaku, curling on his side and trying to keep to one half of the bed. Even asleep, Koujaku’s thoughts are tumultuous and Aoba can’t ignore them. There's so much anxiety and guilt (over what? he wonders) that it makes Aoba’s stomach turn. He's learned some tricks over the years, and carefully melds his mind with Koujaku’s. He doesn't pry, he just sets out a calming pulse that slowly, slowly soothes the restless waves inside his friend’s head. Koujaku's thoughts grow still, and he slips into a deep sleep. Aoba follows not long after. He doesn't dream.

It's Koujaku that shakes Aoba awake in the morning, just like old times. Aoba groans, burying his face in something soft and warm, until his brain wakes up enough to realize he's clinging to Koujaku. Aoba squawks, letting go of Koujaku's red jacket and scooting away.

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

“No problem.” Koujaku's face was nearly as red as his jacket.

Clear is still fast asleep. Aoba tries to coax him awake while Koujaku strips the sheets and re-laces his shoes. It takes a good while to rouse Clear, Aoba could feel how deeply asleep he was before he suddenly snapped awake.

“Grampa?” he slurred.

“No, just us.” Aoba smiled, and patted his shoulder.

They don't have much for food, there’s enough to snack on before they head out again. Before they got too far, Aoba pulled out Ampharos’ pokeball and released her. She stabilizes, shaking her head and squinting in the bright morning sun. 

“You’re all healed now, you can go home.” Aoba pointed to the firest.

The Ampharos looks back the way they had came, then back to Aoba. She coos softly and waddles closer to butt her head against Aoba’s shoulder.

“Wha-? No, you don't have to stay, you can go home!” he tried to push the pokemon away, but she only leaned into his touch.

“Well it looks like she wants to stay.” Koujaku chuckled.

“I've been trying to catch that Ampharos for years....” Clear grumbled.

“Well, it couldn't hurt to have her around.” Aoba withdrew his newest pokemon.

He fell into step with the others and scanned the pokeball with his Gear. After a moment it loaded Ampharos’ stats and moves, the usual electric attacks plus the likes of Power Gem, Signal Beam, and Dragon Pulse. She had considerable strength and endurance, but not much for speed, but there wasn't much to be done about that.

“Koujaku, where are we going” Aoba asked.

“Lumiose. It'll be easier to hide in a big city, plus I know a few people there.” Koujaku shivered against the breeze.

Aoba noticed Clear lagging behind, and waited for him to catch up.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked.

Clear just shrugged.

“It's… a lot to take in. But you aren't alone. We’ll figure it out.” he grinned, bumping their shoulders.

“Thank you.” Clear smiles weakly, “I think in some way I already knew. I always looked different than my classmates. And I spent more time with wild pokemon than kids my age. Once a flock of Swablu taught me how to sing, and I felt like I was one of them. And it turns out, I am. In a way.”

His smile broadens, wide and innocent. Aoba can see the resemblance, a little. Clear’s hair was certainly as soft and fluffy as a Swablu’s wings. Or an Altaria’s. Plus, he was a good singer, from what little they had heard.

The going was easier, now that the sun was up. The trail was more well-traveled, with less debris and only the occasional traveler to avoid. It was mostly young, upstart trainers trying to pick a fight, but they were easily discouraged. It was mid-morning when they arrived at a small town, and Clear almost sobbed with relief. There was a small grocery store, and the promise of some proper food had Clear and Aoba racing ahead.

“Just go easy, we have to make our cash last. We could be on the road for a while.” Aoba cautions.

“Yes, yes, I know!” Clear mumbled as he picked through a basket of apples.

Koujaku joined them moments later and picked out something for himself. They pay, scrounge up a few napkins and head back out to the trail. A ways past the town a sharp, mechanical rumble cuts through the peaceful forest air. Far into the trees, Aoba could just make out a chain-link fence and rising clouds of dust. He cut through the brush to see better. Past the fence, dozens of demolition machines rumble and roll, tearing down rustic log houses. Clear catches up with him first.

“What’s going on? This all looks new, why are they destroying everything?” Aoba asked.

“I think I know what this place is.” Clear murmured.

Aoba, and then Koujaku look at him expectantly, and he continues.

“There was a huge family that lived somewhere around here. A company bought the land out from under their feet and kicked them out. There were a lot of legal battles, it went on for years. But the family must have lost…”

Koujaku ushered them back to the trail. Looking ahead, Aoba could swear he saw a flash of white moving through the trees. It was gone before he could blink, so he could only shrug it off. They continued South and East in the general direction of Geosenge. Going the long way around they managed to avoid Reflection Cave, but it was a very long way around. It was nearing sunset when the first stones appeared. They rose from the earth like silent omens, relics from the 3000-year war. They said it was only a legend, but anyone who spent enough time around those stones could feel the truth in them. With just a touch, Aoba could feel the echo of that day, the pain and terror the pokemon felt before everything ended. From his peripheral, Aoba sees a flash of white again. He looked up just in time to see a white, four-legged pokemon pause between two stones before dashing away. It was too fast to get a good look. But, with some delay, some kind of psychic afterimage struck right in the core of Aoba’s mind. It was a cluster of impressions, memories, images of a huge ivory tower, overwhelming pain, and smothering helplessness.

“-oba? Aoba!” a sharp shake jostles Aoba from his daze.

Aoba staggers from the headache that rushes to fill the void left by the message.

“Aoba? What's wrong?” Koujaku lowered him to the ground.

“There was a pokemon, it showed me something. A tower, and someone was hurt…” Aoba winced.

Koujaku handed over a water bottle, and Aoba drank deeply. He grimaced from a fresh wave of pain and breathed deep to steady his churning stomach. Koujaku rubbed between his shoulders, concern furrowing his eyebrows. Aoba rarely had these kinds of reactions, but it was more likely when he dealt with powerful psychic pokemon. After a time, the attack subsided and he stood with Koujaku's help. Clear hovers anxiously, not sure how to help. But Aoba needed support from both of them to keep walking. At least Geosenge wasn't far. Until Clear froze.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered.

His eyes darted about nervously. Aoba and Koujaku strain their ears, but hear nothing. The forest is quiet, save for the distant call of birds.

“Clear, what-” Aoba started to ask.

“There!” Clear interrupts.

In the forest to the left, there is a faint sound, a snapping twig. From deep between the trees and standing stones, a hulking figure emerged, still half-hidden in the shadows. It drew nearer and the fading sunlight was enough to illuminate it's black and white fur.

“A Pangoro?! You never see those in the wild!” Koujaku hissed.

Clear shook uncontrollably, and his trembling hand withdrew a pokeball. Altaria burst free, guarding Clear with her massive wings. She hissed and the Pangoro stopped, sniffing the air. It growled, low and deep. Altaris launches herself at the Pangoro’s face, clawing at it's face to drive it away. She tumbled deftly to avoid it's swatting paws and pulled further away with a few powerful wingbeats. The brilliant light of a Dragonbreath attack gathered in her beak, before a deep, resonant voice cuts through the air.

“Enough”

Three heads snap to find a tall figure just behind them.

“Where-? What do you want?” Koujaku growls.

The man ignores Koujaku, breezing past them and right up to the battling pokemon. He shoos Altaria away, and draws something, a fruit?, from a pocket. The Pangoro immediately takes interest, sniffing eagerly. With remarkable tenderness, it takes the offered fruit and lumbers back the way it came. Aoba sagged with relief, but Clear still shook terribly, letting out a pained whine. He dropped to his knees and Altaria landed on his shoulders, shielding him with her wings.

“Give him some space.” the man chides.

Aoba had almost forgotten about him. He was tall, taller even than Koujaku, with handsome dark skin and well-kept hair. He dressed in plain, practical clothing and boots, with a wool-collared coat. He knelt beside Clear, speaking so softly Aoba couldn’t hear. After a time, Clear emerged from the cocoon of his pokemon’s wings, face drawn and pale. He took the man’s hand to steady himself while he rose to his feet.

“You should get to town before you lose the light.” the man turns and walks away.

Aoba turned away from Clear to call out after him, “Hey! Wait a minute!”

The man paused, turning back a fraction with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes?” his tone is unreadable.

“Thank you, for helping us. I don't know what happened to Clear, he just shut down.” Aoba looked away under the man's intense gaze.

“He had a panic attack. How and why is for you to figure out, I’m going home.” the man turns and walks away down the road.

”Aoba.” Koujaku drags him back, “We don't know him, he could work for Toue for all we know! We need to skirt the town, camp somewhere…”

They support Clear and start back on the trail, only to find it blocked. The man’s face is dark, golden eyes hard and accusing.

“What do you know about Toue.” he growls. 

“Who wants to know?” Koujaku retorts.

The two stare each other down, unflinching and adamant. But there's something, rising around the strange man like fog. Memories, bitter and so, so angry

“Koujaku, knock it off!” Aoba steps between them.

The man crossed his arms, turning his burning stare on Aoba.

“Toue is a monster, and we have our own reasons to avoid him and his dogs.” Koujaku snarled.

The man looks the group over, “You aren’t very well prepared.”

“We didn't exactly have days to prepare. We took what we could and ran.” Aoba said.

The man considers, and the thick cloud of thoughts settle slightly.

“So, a man you’ve never met is dangerous enough to make you leave everything behind.” he said, incredulous.

“Well, you don’t like him either. Have you met him?” Aoba countered.

“I know him well enough from his little puppet company. He has no concern for the lives of people, pokemon, or the land.” the man said flatly.

“You don't know just how little he cares about living things.” Aoba sighed.

Something about the man shifted, just what Aoba couldn't quite put his finger on. He was… curious? 

“Well, you won't get very far as-is. I have a cabin, at the edge of town. You're welcome to spend the night.” there's an amused glint in the man’s eye, “And Red here needs some proper clothes.”

Koujaku splutters indignantly, “I have a name!”

“As do I, but none of you bothered to ask.” a small smirk pulled at the man’s lips.

“Well, I'm Aoba, and this is Koujaku.” Aoba gripped Koujaku’s arm.

“Clear is my name.” he said softly..

“Mink.” is all the man says.


	3. Shelter

The man- Mink leads the way, and it gets dangerously dark long before they get anywhere. Aoba let Ampharos out, and her brilliant tail lit the way. Mink nodded in approval. Clear sped up to walk beside Mink, and managed to coax a conversation out of him. Clear is as open as a book, his emotions ebb and flow as strong as the tide. Mink however, is harder to read. He kept his thoughts close and everything about him was heavily guarded. Only the barest flickers broke through. Anger, still subsiding, and something else…but Aoba refused to dig further.

They finally reach the very edge of Geosenge and Mink veers off the main path, onto something no more distinct than a game trail. The men following him are near dead on their feet by the time they reach the faintly lit house. It's small, but cozy when Mink unlocks the door to let them inside. Mink stokes the fire in a deep stone fireplace and Koujaku warms himself in it's glow. Clear flops onto the couch with a defeated groan. After returning Ampharos to her ball, Aoba joins Clear, stripping off his boots and socks. Their stomachs rumble, loudly. Aoba is mortified and it's even worse when Mink chuckles.

“I'll start dinner then.”

There's an honest smile of Mink’s lips and it's eerie how much younger he looks for it. He can't be that much older than Koujaku.

“Oh, I’ll help!” Clear is back on his feet in an instant.

Mink tries to object, but Clear breezes right past him into the kitchen to start looking in cabinets. Koujaku takes the now-vacant seat, groaning long and low.

“My feet hurt so much…” Koujaku whines.

“Mine too.” Aoba laughs.

Koujaku leaned in close and whispered, “Do you think we can trust him?”

“Mink? Yes. He has… some kind of grudge against Toue. That’s all I can see, he's very defensive.” Aoba frowns.

Koujaku nods, and leans back to stretch his sore legs. The smell of cooking soon fills the house, and Aoba’s stomach complains again. They're both on the verge of dozing off when Mink calls them to sit at the table. Clear served up a hearty vegetable soup, full of lentils, potatoes, carrots and herbs, with thick slices of crusty bread on the side. It's hot and filling, exactly what they needed after so much time of the road. Clear and Koujaku sag in their chairs, already settling into a food coma once they finish. Before Mink can get up Aoba snatches their dirty dishes up and takes them to the sink. He starts washing after shooing Mink away again. Clear already cleaned what they cooked with, so it's only a matter of washing bowls and spoons. Mink busies himself again with the fire, settling the flames and spreading the embers.

“You all are welcome to the shower. There are towels in the hall closet, and soaps in the bathroom.” Mink dusts off his hands.

“You can go first Clear.” Aoba offers.

Clear smiles sleepily, and trudges to the bathroom. The sound of running water soon echoes faintly under the door. Mink sighs, brow furrowed.

“Sleeping arrangements will be tight. You two can take the guest room, Clear can take mine.” he finally says.

Neither Aoba nor Koujaku really know what to say, they just thank Mink again for his hospitality. Clear comes out not long after, and takes his bag from Mink with a soft ‘Thank you’. Clear entered what must've been Mink’s room to get ready for bed. Aoba took the next shift, leaving Koujaku and Mink alone.

“Do you smoke?” Mink offers a hand-rolled cigarette from a box on the mantle.

“Not often, but sure.” Koujaku took one, and followed Mink to the porch.

Mink lights his, then Koujaku's smoke with a match that he grinds under his boot. He drew a deep breath and blew a long, thin stream of smoke into the night. These cigarettes were strange, and probably contained no tobacco at all. They were almost sweet with herbs and spices Koujaku couldn't name.

“There's more to those two than meets the eye, isn't there?” Mink asked bluntly.

Koujaku coughs, choking on his own lungful of smoke.

“How could you tell?” he finally rasps.

“Aoba gave a good hint. There are more than enough rumors about that white tower to put the pieces together. Toue takes what he wants, when he wants it. If he can simply take land belonging to a people for hundreds of years, two people can easily ‘disappear’.” Mink’s voice turns dark.

“They are different, but that's not for me to tell. You'll have to ask for yourself.” Koujaku huffed, “But, that shouldn't be a problem. They seem to trust you.”

Mink hums thoughtfully, and says nothing more. Koujaku finishes his smoke, and heads back inside to find the bathroom empty. The room is hot and humid, a welcome change from the chill outside. He strips, and bile rises in his throat at the sight of the ink carved into his skin. He showers with his eyes closed, scrubbing off days of trail dirt. He towels dry, and considers putting his old clothes back on. One sniff is enough to change his mind. He wraps the towel around his waist and exits with clothes bundled under his arm. His small bag of belongings was still in the main room, so he retrieved it. He steps into the spare room, and as he closes the door a surprised gasp stops his heart cold. Aoba sat on the bed, hair still dripping wet and naked to the waist. They stare, red-faced and uncertain.

“I'm sorry, I’ll just-” Koujaku starts.

“Wait!” Aoba flushes harder, and crosses the room, “What are these?”

Aoba’s fingers trace the designs on Koujaku's forearm. There was nothing like this before Koujaku left, it must've happened within the last few years. Koujaku's face twists in pain, and he can't bear to look at Aoba.

“My father’s brand.” his voice is tight with the threat of tears.

Aoba dragged Koujaku back to the bed and forced him to sit. With raven-black hair slicked away from his face, another tattoo is bared on Koujaku’s cheek. It's an ugly thing, curled like wicked claws along the curve of his cheekbone and brow. Aoba could feel the shale, the agony rolling in waves from his dearest friend, and it's enough to leave tears welling in his own eyes. All at once, the emotional fallout of the last few days sweeps them both up, and they cry. They fall against each other, muffling broken sobs. They cry out their pain, their fear, their confusion and grief until all that's left is the heart-achingly wonderful joy of finally having each other again. The sobs dwindle to sniffles as they wipe the tears from each other’s cheeks, smiles slowly growing.  
“You're still in your towel, hippo.” Aoba chuckles.

“Did you have to remind me?” Koujaku huffs, but fetches his bag.

“I won't look. Your modesty is safe.” Aoba flops on the bed with his back to the rest of the room.

“My hero~” Koujaku teases.

There's the sound of rustling fabric, and Aoba tries not to think too hard about a very naked Koujaku just a few feet away. Koujaku sits back on the bed and Aoba takes that as an ‘all clear’. He sits back up, snatching his towel from the bedpost to ruffle Koujaku’s hair dry. He laughs, deep and rich, and tried to swat Aoba off. Aoba found his brush to fix Koujaku’s hair as best he can, parting it to leave the fringe covering his tattoo. Koujaku hangs up their towels to dry, and pauses.

“I can sleep on the floor, if you'd like…” he scratches at his neck.

“We can share!” Aoba blurted, “Uh, I mean- We did that all the time when we were kids, so it's not a big deal…”

He scooted over to make room on the mattress. Koujaku flicked off the light, and crawled under the covers. He kept his distance, but Aoba pressed right up to his side. It wa so warm, and Aoba finally felt safe. He slips to sleep easily, but not so fast that he doesn't notice warm arms wrap around him.

 

Mink pulled the ornaments from his hair and picked out the braids, then washed, quick and efficient. He dried and dressed in nightclothes he always kept in the hall closet, but rarely wore. He only planned to drop off his clothes and jewelry in his room before settling down for the night on the couch, but Clear called out to him.

“Ah, Mink? I really can take the couch. It doesn't seem right to force you out of your own bed after all you've done for us.” Clear picked at the hem of his shirt.

“I'll be fine for one night. Just go to sleep.” Mink said.

“But-!” Clear stoped when Mink raises an eyebrow.

“Just sleep.” he’s halfway out the door when he catches a soft whimper.

“I don’t want to be alone.” 

When Mink looks back, Clear is curled in a miserable ball on the quilt. The way his shoulders hitch, he must be trying to hide tears, and a muffled sniffle confirms Mink’s suspicions. There must be more that happened than any of the three men had revealed, and Mink can't stop the sudden rush of pity. This boy, barely a man, is miles from home and running for his life with complete strangers. Then, he’s to be left alone, after nearly dying of fright. He can't bring himself to leave Clear alone.

“Move over then.” Mink crossed the room in two strides and pulled at the blankets.

Clear’s face is tear-stained when he looks up, but he moves back against the wall to make room. He slipped under the covers and watched Mink from under his hair. Mink flips off the lamp at the bedside and slips in beside Clear mumbling a quick ‘goodnight’, before Clear shifted. He pressed against Mink’s back, head between his massive shoulders. Clear breathes deeply, drawing in the faint smell of cinnamon before he drifted to sleep. Mink waits until Clear’s breath grows long and even, but before he could slip away, one of Clear’s arms flops over his side, holding him close.

‘I suppose I can stay…’

When Mink woke bright and early, Clear is still clinging to him. He slipped free, very gently, and headed to the kitchen. He started a pot of water boiling, and sorted supplies from the pantry; oats, dried currants, seeds and nuts for a hearty breakfast. The oats weren't the processed sort, so they would take a good long while to properly cook. But his guests were still fast asleep, and would probably sleep for a while still. Cooking for so many after so long away from home brought out an odd fondness in Mink, despite his guests being total strangers. He could tell they were honest, but scared and confused, and most of all: unprepared. They had no means to cook, or protect themselves from the elements. They were city folk, soft to the ways of the wild, and there were only so many centers and waystations in Kalos. Mink was struck with the sudden, inexplicable urge to go with them. They needed guidance, and more protection. And he would be keeping one more pawn out of Toue’s hands. He stirred the pot again, planning what supplies to pack.

Koujaku is the first to wake, and when he opens his eyes all he can see is blue. Aoba was tucked up under his chin, their arms and legs were a messy tangle. The sight makes Koujaku’s heart stutter. He takes a moment to run his fingers through Aoba’s hair, easily parting the strands. Aoba shifted, murmuring something unintelligible before he settled back into the warm sheets. There's a faint smell, something sweet, filling the room. Koujaku figured Mink must be up already, making breakfast. He tried to get up, but Aoba tightened his grip on Koujaku’s shoulders. He can't bring himself to move after that, but he made at least passing attempts to wake Aoba up.

Clear woke alone and disoriented, but the smell of food is in the air. He shuffled to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Mink stood near the stove, tending to a steaming pot and- is he singing? Clear moved closer, as quietly as he could. Mink must be singing, but in a language that Clear didn’t recognize. Still, his voice is rich and deep and Clear was so lost in the melody he didn't notice when Mink stopped to stare at him.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to eavesdrop!” Clear ducked his head.

“It's nothing. Breakfast is almost done, you should wake the others.” Mink turns to the stove to check the pot.

Clear pretends not to notice the faint flush of color on Mink’s cheeks. There's only one other room, so that must be where Aoba and Koujaku are. Clear knocked tentatively at the door, but no one answered. He tried again, knocking harder, but still there was so answer. Clear tested the handle and found it unlocked. He opened it only a little, enough to call out more clearly.

“Aoba? Koujaku? Breakfast is ready, you should get up.”

The only response is muffled groans, and something like ‘Five more minutes’.

“Mink is being very generous, it would be rude to sleep through a meal! You can rest later-” Clear took one step into the room, and froze.

Aoba and Koujaku were a tight bundle of limbs and sheets, clutching each other as they drifted back to sleep. Clear almost felt bad for walking in on something so intimate.

“Koujaku.” Clear shook the man’s shoulder, “Wake up!”

Koujaku bolted upright with a snort, eyes flying around the room before they land on Clear. He sags, rubbing his face wearily.

“Whatisit.” he groans.

“Breakfast is ready, you should eat. And, I think Aoba needs some extra convincing to wake up.” Clear smirked.

Koujaku waved him off, then set about coaxing Aoba awake. Clear returned to the kitchen to find Mink at the counter, braiding ornaments back into his hair.

“They're coming. I had Koujaku wake Aoba.” Clear rocked on his heels, watching Mink work.

He made tiny, neat plaits and fixed them with beads and a delicate wheel-shaped charm. Mink caught Clear’s stare, and decided it wouldn't hurt to explain.

“It's a tradition of my people, to decorate one’s hair. The head is the home of the soul, so we decorate ourselves to show thanks to our creator.” he said.

Before Clear could ask anything, a loud yawn made them both jump. Aoba plodded down the the living room, ushered along by Koujaku. Both had wild, untamed bedhead and bags under their eyes, but the scent of food urged them on. Mink handed Clear two steaming bowls of porridge which he carried to the table, while Mink filled two more. They eat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. It was a long way to Lumiose, even if they left now it would take another four days on the deepest, most deserted tracks. Koujaku’s feet and knees ache at the thought of more walking, but it's the best plan they have. Mink breaks the silence first.

“You should stay until tomorrow, rebuild your strength. And I'll need to get more supplies, you three won’t last long on your own.” he left no room for objection.

Koujaku threw his head back and groaned.

“Yes Red?” Mink raised an eyebrow.

“Why don't we just invite all of Geosenge while we’re at it!” he grouses.

“Kouaju-!” Aoba smacked his shoulder.

“What? We're already stuck with this kid-” he jerked a thumb at Clear, ”-and now Mr. Woodsman wants in for no reason! This was just supposed to be the two of us!”

“And I suppose you know how to manage a campfire? Cook on the road? Travel off the trails? Forage for food when there are no markets for days? Like it or not, you aren't prepared to go anywhere. You need me.” Mink stood and started clearing the table.

Koujaku huffed, knowing full well that Mink was right. Aoba and Clear helped with the dishes, so Mink could prepare for his trip to town. He took a quick stock of what he already had, and what he needed. A camp stove, waterproof tarps, more dry food, extra sleeping bags, and maybe some second-hand clothes for Koujaku. Mink rummaged through his wardrobe first, and found an old jacket, plus some jeans and shirts he had almost forgotten about. The two men were about the same size, Koujaku would just have to tolerate sharing. But, he would at least wash everything first, and all the other’s clothes as well. Mink started the washer, piling his own clothes in and calling Aoba for the rest, since he was closest. Mink left them with some instructions, then took his leave.

Clean, fed, and with a whole day to safely relax, Aoba quickly grew bored.

“I think we should let our pokemon get some exercise.” he thought aloud.

“There is a lot of space here.” Clear agreed.

“You know, you still owe me a tag match.” Koujaku teased.

“You-!” Aoba pouted.

“A… what?” Clear was quite confused, “Tag? Like the children’s game?”

“Hah, not quite. Back home, there were always a lot of younger children. So instead of full-fledged battles we got quite creative making competitive games for our pokemon. And flag-tag was one of them.” Aoba explained.

“Many a youngsters’ reputation was won and lost on the tag field.” Koujaku sighed wistfully.

“Including yours” Aoba teased.

“Yeah, ‘cause you cheat.” Koujaku took his turn to pout.

“It's not cheating if you never said I couldn’t use my powers!”

Koujaku chuckled, head falling back. 

“Well… we don't have any flags, but there is my scarf?” Clear offered.

“Thanks, Clear. Let’s get everybody out.” Aoba fetched his bag.

Outside, they picked through their pokeballs to choose their competitors. Since Clear donated his scarf, he would get to play defense the first round. Aoba chose Blaziken, since he’d had so little time out lately. They're surprised to see that Clear didn’t pick Altaria, instead he released a massive Togekiss. Clear tied his scarf in a careful bow around it's neck while he explained the rules to his pokemon. Then, Koujaku finally made his choice. For a split second, the pokemon stood still, then it charged straight for Aoba. He only realized what it was when the pokemon is wrapped around him in a smothering hug.

“A Gallade? Koujaku, is this…?” Aoba gasped.

The pokemon answered that question for him.

Aoba was suddenly on that beach back home, looking at a much younger and smaller version of himself. He held the hand of an equally young Koujaku as they walked, shuffling and kicking sand. Then, off in the dune grass there was a quick rustle and cry. When they investigated, they found two small Ralts. They were cold, miserable, and clinging desperately to each other. One, the brother, shielded his little sister from the human intruders and tried to attack with it's feeble psychic powers. Aoba was strong enough to block the energy even back then, to the surprise of both little pokemon. And after the surprise, the Ralts seemed to turn instantly curious. Leaning on each other, they toddled out of the grass to pat Aoba’s legs with their tiny hands, looking up at him with wide eyes. They all played together on that beach until the sun nearly set, when Aoba and Koujaku had to leave for home. But the Ralts refused to be left behind and followed the boys home. It took much convincing, cajoling, and promising to finally convince Tae and Koujaku’s mother to let the boys keep one Ralts each. The brother stayed with Aoba, and the sister went with Koujaku so the four of them were never truly apart. 

Until the day Koujaku was taken away, and Aoba forced him to take the brother Ralts so the siblings wouldn't have to be separated too. Then the familiar memories end, and Gallade is showing him everything that happened after in a rush on images. The dark, haunting complex Koujaku had to live in, and years of training in secret until both Ralts evolved into Kirlia. Later still the sister evolved into a Gardevoir, and Gallade only managed to evolve with the help of Koujaku’s mother. And then it's chaos, fire, and destruction as Koujaku escaped his prison and made for Midori island again.

The vision ends and Aoba snapped back to the present. Gallade peeked shyly up at him, and Aoba returned his old partner’s embrace. Gallade croons, nuzzling into Aoba’s shoulder and his human laughs, rocking them back and forth. At their side, Blaziken warbles and tugs at Gallade, eager to play once again. Clear’s Togekiss took to the air, circling the clearing around Mink’s home a few times before swooping low to entice the other pokemon with her borrowed scarf. Blaziken and Gallade remember this game well, and are off in a flash, executing breathtaking acrobatics in their pursuit of their flying opponent. To her credit, Togekiss is just as skilled and tries to play fair by staying in reach. But Blaziken and Gallade make a stunning team. Blaziken jumps, driving Togekiss right into Gallade’s hands. He carefully snatched the scarf from the giant bird’s neck, and the giant bow whispers free. Togekiss returned to clear, a little disappointed, but Clear’s praise bring her spirits right back. The other pokemon cheer for their shared victory, butting heads and play-boxing.

The game was quickly forgotten in favor of just letting all their pokemon out to spend some time in the sun. On top of Gallade and Gardevoir, Koujaku released a Talonflame, Samurott, Scyther, and Leavanny. Clear’s Togekiss was joined by Altaria, plus a Milotic, Jellicent, Cherrim, and Sylveon. Aoba’s new Ampharos was a little shy, and reluctant to join the others before Togekiss and Gardevoir won her over. Ren was absolutely beside himself when he realized just who Gallade and Gardevoir were. And for a while, Aoba, Koujaku, and Clear forgot they were running for their lives.

When Mink returned, laden with purchases, he’s shocked to see so many pokemon in his yard. For a moment, he feared the worst. But the laughter echoing in the trees provides immediate relief. It’s rather obvious which pokemon belonged to what man. Clear’s were of gentle nature and deceptive strength, and Koujaku’s of power and skill. Aoba’s pokemon were few and varied, but well cared for and affectionate. Seeing how these men treasured their partners quashed any doubt in Mink’s mind about his decision. Aoba was the first to notice his arrival.

“Ah, Mink! Here, let us help…” Aoba rushed to his aid.

Aoba and Clear took a few packages, and Koujaku held the door open for them. They followed Mink’s lead and just dropped everything in the living room, where Mink started to sort through everything. The food he set aside to pack later, and the camping gear he had to unpack from the boxes it came in. but, he could afford to take a little break first… He fetched his own pokeballs, all hand-made from apricorns, and stepped out to the yard. The others followed curiously. A Xatu and Sigilyph joined the other birds, and a Meganium was instantly swarmed by Cherrim and Leavanny. A Claydol came next, then an absolute behemoth of an Aggron. The last pokeball was a soft rosy color, and from it came a tiny Floette. She stuck close to Mink, clutching a white lily in her tiny hands. Aoba snuck close to try and get a better look, but Floette just tried to hide deeper in Mink’s hair. Mink speaks to her softly in his own language, and that encourages Floette to peek out, little by little. Her mind is a bright spark, as bright as a Ralts, so Aoba tries to share a memory, a small one, of the hillsides back home blooming with wildflowers. Floette’s tiny face shone with joy, and she zipped out of her hiding place to run rings around Aoba’s head, showering him with flower petals. That soft, heart-warming smile was back on Mink’s face, and Aoba quickly averted his eyes when he found himself staring.

Leaving their pokemon to entertain themselves, the men head back inside. Mink handed a stack of clothing, mostly his own, to Koujaku to try on. He left quite red in the face. Aoba and CLear helped unpackage the new equipment while Mink packed food away in what appeared to be giant saddlebags. They were made of thick canvas and wool, covered in rich patterns like the rest of the trappings in Mink’s home. Aoba guessed they were for Meganium, and he’s relieved they won’t be carrying all of this themselves. Besides food, Mink had brought back a tripod cooking stand, several plastic tarps and a few new sleeping bags. On Mink’s instruction, they unzipped and opened the bags, and Clear took them all outside to hang and air out. Aoba is quite suddenly aware that he is alone with Mink, and he can feel the questions on the man’s lips before he spoke a word.

“Floette can’t stand strangers, I’m impressed. How did you manage?” he asked.

“Oh, I-” Aoba stammered, and cleared his throat, “I’ve had psychic powers my whole life. It's always been easy to talk to pokemon. Sometimes all they understand is feelings or images, but that’s usually enough. It works on people too, but... I don’t try that often.”  
Aoba fidgeted under Mink’s calculating gaze. As part of the group, he did have the right to know.

“Does Clear have the same abilities?” Mink asked bluntly.

“Clear? I don't think so. I’m… sure you’ve guessed, but we’re different. Toue’s done some awful things, and me and Clear… we’re part of that. And we were the lucky ones. There are others like us, somewhere in Platinum Jail. We’re all part pokemon, somehow.” Aoba scratched awkwardly at his arm.

Mink looked away, “You seem remarkably calm about that.”

“It's… still sinking in, I admit. But, I’m more than just a scrap of DNA. I've been me my whole life, that's not going to change.” Aoba shrugged.

Those words surprise Mink, though it barely shows.

Clear came back inside a moment later, and Koujaku returned from the guest room. Mink left to reheat last night’s dinner for lunch, and gather more supplies from the kitchen. It's nice, to relax like this Aoba though. He had only just met half these man, and bustling about in a near-stranger’s home feels familiar. Like they’d been doing it for years. Their pokemon play outside, though a few followed Clear back in. Cherrin and Floette perched on Mink’s shoulders and busy themselves filling his hair with tiny flowers from around the yard. Leavanny climbs the furniture to place delicate crowns of autumn leaves first on it's own trainer, then Aoba and Clear. Even Mink humored the bug and crouched to the poor pokemon could reach. Soon lunch was eaten and dishes cleaned, all while they discussed the logistics of the trip. Mink and Clear were quite confident in the smaller trails, but Koujaku had doubts.

“If we get there faster, they have less chance to catch us on the road! The main routs are remote enough already, we don’t need to make is harder on ourselves.” he argued.

“True, but there are plenty of towns and waystations Toue could be watching. It isn't worth the risk.” Mink said firmly.

Koujaku sighed, but finally agreed. He helped clean up the packaging, while Aoba and Clear checked on their pokemon outside. The little herd of pokemon was taking well enough care of themselves, spreading out around the yard and into the woods to forage for food. Aoba felt a little guilty about making them fend for themselves, but Mink’s pokemon knew the area well enough to show the others where the best foraging was. Cherrim and Meganium stayed behind to bask in the sun, glowing faintly from the energy they soaked up. 

Clear took a seat by Meganium, leaning back against her warm side. His Sylveon trotted back from the far side of the house to crawl into Clear’s lap, trying to curl up but not quite fitting with all her long limbs. Aoba took a seat as well, and Meganium gave him a curious sniff, bathing both of them in her sweet perfume. She seemed satisfied and laid her head back down to doze. Sylveon purred loudly as Clear stroked her soft fur, and for a moment the world is perfect.

“Aoba?” Clear asked.

“Hmm?” Aoba snapped to attention.

“What do you think Toue wants with us? I don't think I have any powers, and yours are common enough in other people. But, why now? After all this time.” he stared deep into the trees, as if they had the answer.

“I'm sure he has some sick reason. People with that much money and power don't think like you and me. It's like the world is theirs for the taking, and anyone who gets in the way can just be swept under the rug.” Aoba sighed.

“Aren't you scared?” Clear peeked at him curiously.

“Out of my mind. But we aren't alone. We have Koujaku, and Mink, and all of our pokemon. If I go down, I’ll go down fighting.” he offered a smile.

They sit in silence for a while, and Aoba’s mind drifted to the night before.

“Hey, Clear?” he asked, “What was is that scared you so much? With the Pangoro. It wasn't going to hurt us.”

Clear froze, and Sylveon snapped to attention. She wrapped Clear in her ribbons, nuzzling under his chin. Clear held his pokemon tight, stroking her soft fur.

“I-I” Clear’s voice broke, but he tried again, “When I was younger, I was bullied because I was so different. The kids who bullied me, they all had Pancham, and used them to attack me since I was bigger than they were. Their parents were the richest people in town and didn't care what their children did. It went on for so long, they weren't Pancham anymore. That’s when my Eevee evolved, when they ambushed me one day after school. Once I had the advantage, they gave up. But ever since…” 

Clear shuddered, but kept stroking Sylveon’s fur. Aoba immediately regretted asking, and he wanted to offer some sort of comfort but wasn’t sure how. One hand tentatively reached over Clear’s shoulders, and pulled him into a sideways hug.

Koujaku joined them some time later, shaking his hands dry. Meganium perked up again and he approached, stretching her long neck to sniff his hands. Koujaku patted her nose and she leaned into the touch with a contented sigh.

“You know, I always thought Meganium were scaly for some reason.” Koujaku mused, stroking her soft neck.

“Grandpa actually studied pokemon family trees, he thought Meganium were one of the last remaining descendants of Aurorous. Just like Tyranitar are related to Tyrantrum and all birds are related to Archeops.” with something else to talk about, Clear was back to his usual self.

“Huh, you don't say…” Koujaku said.

“Yes! Grandpa thought their skin lost it's scales so they could absorb sunlight more efficiently, like Venusaur. He also wrote a paper ages ago about their hybridized DNA. He was searching for the cause of flower variation by region. Though I've never seen a Meganium like yours, Mink.” he peeked shyly around the pokemon’s neck.

Aoba twisted to look over Meganium’s back, he hadn't noticed Mink come out. He leaned against the porch railing, drawing on a freshly lit cigarette. The smoke billowed across the yard, and Aoba was surprised that is was sweet, not the sickening stink of normal tobacco. Floette still rested on Mink’s shoulder, clinging to a braid to keep her balance. He was lost in thought, and Clear had to call twice more before Mink responded.

“My apologies, what was your question?” 

“I was just asking about your Meganium, I’ve never seen one like her.” Clear idly stroked the ring of white petals around her neck.

“There were many species of pokemon kept by my people. Chikorita have been raised for generations of a diet of special herbs, and their flowers changed over time. Aron foraged for the natural ores in our soil, and that changed how their armor developed as they age.” Mink’s face turned dark, “That’s why Toue wanted our land. It's resources are unique. Who knows what he has planned.”

“He's no better than a pirate.” Koujaku snorted.

“That's a polite way to put it.” Mink smirked around his cigarette.

A sweet warble far above caught their attention, and Altaria swooped in low to land on Meganium’s back. She carried a strange fruit in her beak, and tried to feed it to Clear, pressing it against his mouth.

“Don't.” Mink was suddenly behind them.

He took the berry from Altaria aand ignored her protests and scolding. He turned the fruit over in his palm, examining it carefully. It was the size of a plum, but the skin was leathery, dark purple speckled with white.

“What it is?” Clear asked.

“I'm not sure. If in doubt, don't.” he stood, and walked to the sunward side of the house.

Mink dug a hole and pressed the strange berry into the black earth. He buried it, patting the soil down and dusting his hands off.

“We’ll see what happens.”

Togekiss, Talonflame and Xatu returned shortly after wheeling and diving through the low clouds. The rest filtered through the trees, joining the relaxed pile of Meganium, Clear, and Aoba.Aggron is the last to lumber home, and now Aoba could see the faint iridescent sheen on its armor. It walked right up to Mink and nuzzled him with surprising delicacy, and Mink returned it's affections. On the eaves, Talonflame tried to pick a fight with Xatu, who ignores the smaller bird in favor of grooming its massive wings.

“Beni! C’mon, leave him alone.” Koujaku chided.

Beni grumbled to himself and dropped from the roof to land on Koujaku’s outstretched arm. He sidled up and settled on his trainer’s shoulder, fluffing his feathers. Koujaku lowered himself to the ground, and as careful as he tried to be, Beni still complained. Aggron curled up to sleep on Meganium’s other side, armor creaking as it settled. Aoba leaned over Meganium to look more closely. The shining metal hide bore a faint geometric pattern, strikingly similar to the ones on Mink’s crafts. He touched it, and is shocked to find the metal is pleasantly warm under his fingers. Aggron shifted, glancing about before it's eyes fell on Aoba. It sniffed his outstretched hand, then pressed its nose into Aoba’s palm. A deep rumble pulsed through it's body, right into the ground, and it took a moment for Aoba to realize that is was Aggron, purring. Mink’s Claydol and Sigilyph floated closer, as if attracted by the sound. Their thoughts are alien, strange tendrils of power brushing Aoba’s own. They were curious, and gentle in their exploration, so Aoba showed them a memory from home. Just the setting sun, and the smell of the sea, and when the memory faded, the pokemon supplied their own.

There was a forest and hills, and the bare roots of the Eastern mountains. A ring of houses filled a clearing in the woods, with gardens behind every home that blended into the forest. People of all ages milled about the area, then the pokemon focused in on one young man, kneeling in his garden. He lifted his head to wipe the sweat from his brow, and Aoba realized that was Mink, easily a decade younger. The frown lines hadn’t yet settled around his mouth, and the planes of his face were softer, and more youthful. There was a light in his eyes, that seems to have vanished in the years since…

Before Aoba could examine further, he snapped back to the present. Claydol and Sigilyph consider him another moment, they floated away. Aggron watched them go, then looked back to Aoba with it's head tilted like a Lilypup’s. It rumbled again, nudging its massive head into Aoba’s hands, arching until his fingers drag against the soft, leathery skin under its jaw. It's eyes squinted shut and the deep, pulsing purr started again once Aoba scratched. As it's eyes fluttered closed, quiet laughter drew closer to their pile.

“And here I thought I had earned their loyalty.” Mink has that soft smile on his lips.

“Hah, I don't think they’d ever leave you.” Aoba grinned back.

“True. We’ve been together a long time, but Huracan was my very first.” Mink looked to the roof.

At the sound of his name, the Xatu perked up and floated down from the roof to stand beside his trainer. Aoba was always amazed by how tall Xatu were, with their long necks and longer legs. Huracan could nearly look Mink in the eye when it stood fully upright. He let out a low croak and clacked his beak, then preened a few feathers before striding over to the pokemon pile in long, fluid steps. He stared curiously at Aoba for a moment, then moved on to greet Clear. He burbled sweetly, preening Clear’s hair and nibbling his ears until Clear was breathless with laughter. Sylveon was jostled halfway out of Clear’s lap and into Aoba’s, and she was clearly furious.

“Huracan, leave him be.” Mink chided, without and real effort.

The great bird paused with a beakful of Clear’s hair, looking guiltily back at his trainer. He settled down at Clear’s side, folding his long legs under himself and fluffing his feathers. Sylveon scrambled back into her spot on Clear’s lap, keeping one leery eye on Huracan.

The sun grew weak and drifted low in the sky, bathing everything in golden light. Being so naturally pale, Clear looked absolutely ethereal, almost glowing in the last rays of light. Aoba found himself staring more than once, and hastily averted his eyes. Clear was nice to look at, that wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about, right?

Mink had gone inside a while before to start dinner, and the smell was just starting to waft out the open door. It's a long process to recall all their pokemon, and it hurts to pack them away like luggage. But, it had to be done. Dinner was more stew, but with a different blend of flavors than the night before, it was more spicy than herbal. It filled them with radiant heat, perfect for the chill of the evening.

‘I think I could get used to this,’ Aoba thought as he slipped into bed.

Despite all Clear’s protests, Mink slept on the couch, but they all slept deeply and woke up refreshed. Mink had breakfast ready first thing, and finished packing the bags while everyone else ate. Meganium was released outside to have her bags fitted, and she hardly seemed fazed by the weight. Aoba, Clear and Koujaku shouldered their own bags while Mink secured his home.

“We can take the path around Geosenge. There are fewer eyes that way.” Mink said.

He took the lead without hesitation, with Meganium following leisurely at his side. It was nice on the woodland paths; quiet, calm, and there was no one to bother them. At least, for a while. After an hour of steady walking, Clear stopped them.

“I hear voices ahead, it sounds like people arguing.” he looked pale.

“You three hang back, I’ll go ahead.” Mink’s face turned stony.

Koujaku ushered Aoba and Clear off the trail and behind a thick hedge. Mink continued, and the voices grew close enough that the others could hear. Three men rounded the corner, all wearing the same dark jacket with a pin on the lapel. Their argument cut off abruptly when they spotted Mink. they distance themselves, spreading out across the trail and squaring their shoulders. The middle man sneered, looking Mink over.

“Wadda’ya want gramps?” he said, and his lackies chuckled.

Mink glaced at him, eyes cold, “I’m going to Lumiose. Last I checked, that wasn’t illegal. Now, move.”

The man on the right snickered.

“Oooh, tough guy! I guess you won’t mind if we have a look at what you’re packin? Make sure you aren’t out to make trouble.” he said.

“You have no authority here. I’ll only ask once more: Move.” Mink’s hand moves to a pokeball.

The three man chuckle and toss their own pokeballs without warning. Two Mightyena, a Golbat and three Beedril fill the bare stretch of forest, ready for their trainer’s commands. Mink scoffs.

“Typical.” 

Aggron burst from his ball, and promptly charged the gang, bellowing his challenge. The thugs cursed and dove out of the way, while their pokemon tried to attack. Their teeth and stingers can’t even scratch Aggron’s armor, in fact one Mightyena ran back to it's trainer crying pathetically with broken teeth. With a few more swipes of its powerful tail and horns, the other pokemon scattered.

“Are you quite through?” Mink was unsettlingly calm.

“Not on your life, gramps.” the middle man growled.

The thugs all withdrew their battered pokemon, and the leader released only one. It solidified, almost matching Aggron’s height and bulk. It's thick green hide was battle-scarred, horns bristling and tail hammering the ground.

“A Tyranitar? You really have lost your mind, brat.” Mink scoffed.

Aggron readied himself to fight, but a brilliant flash on Tyranitar’s horn stops him. The glow intensified. Chords of light streamed back to a cuff on it's trainer’s arm. The light engulfed the pokemon, and it's silhouette shifted and grew as it's spines expanded. The energy dissipated in a burst of color, and the now-Mega tyranitar roared triumphantly.

“We have to help him!” Aoba nearly vaulted the bushes before Koujaku held him back.

“Aoba, no! Those guys work for Toue! I've seen those pins before, on the thugs that met with my father.” hatred burned in Koujaku’s face.

“But Mink can’t take on a Mega alone!” Aoba hissed.

“He's smart, and Aggron is tough, they can pull through.” Koujaku kept a tight grip on Aoba’s sleeve.

A dust storm grew around the battling pokemon, trail dirt and forest debris getting swept up in the gale. It all brushed harmlessly over the pokemon, but their trainers were nearly blinded. Tyranitar was stronger and faster, even with it's type handicap, but Aggron gave as good as he got, hammering away with massive claws. As hard as he tried, Tyranitar was just too powerful, and soon it was beating Aggron off the trail and into the trees.

Somewhere deep behind them, Clear heard snapping branches and heavy footfalls, and a dark shape barreled past their hiding spot. It slammed into the hulking Mega pokemon, knocking it away from Aggron. There was a moment where the thick veil of sand parts enough to see exactly what joined the fight.

“It's that Pangoro!” Aoba pulled Clear close.

“The same one? What’s it doing here?” Koujaku pushed Clear’s head down when he tried to peek.

“The fighting must’ve attracted it, Pangoro hate unfair fights.” Aoba said.

True to it's nature, Pangoro fought right beside Aggron once he recovered. Alone, they couldn’t stand against so much raw power, but together they could distract and outflank it. Their fighting-type moves were devastating, and soon Tyranitar’s great endurance was spent. With one last punch it flew back. The Mega energy dissipated as Tyranitar hit the ground, limp and exhausted.

“WHAT?!” the leader wailed.

He recalled his pokemon and followed the other thugs already running away.

“I'll remember this! I'll remember your face gramps!” he shouted.

When the men were finally out of sight, Aggron trembled and lowered himself to the ground. Pangoro sniffed him, letting out a sympathetic whine and tried to help Aggron back to his feet. Aoba sprinted to the pokemon’s side, skidding to a stop next to Mink and digging for a potion in his bag. Aggron looked up weakly as Aoba sprayed the medicine where he could reach, and rolled over to expose his soft belly. Koujaku finally caught up, dragging Clear behind him, shielding the smaller man from the great bear pokemon. 

“He's mostly tired, there doesn't seem to be any wounds…” Aoba said.

“I thought as much. Thank you. And you, Aggron, you fought well.” Mink patted his pokemon, and recalled him.

Mink tucked the ball away, and turned to face the Pangoro that still watched them. It sniffed curiously in Mink’s direction, then looked to Aoba and the others. Clear hid behind Koujaku, shaking faintly. It's ears perked when it looked back to Aoba, crooning curiously. Aoba’s powers couldn’t touch it at all, and it was unnerving to have no idea what the pokemon was thinking. Pangoro stepped forward, paws thudding softly in the dirt. Aoba froze solid when the bear pressed its nose into his hair, snuffling about and it tickled something awful. Pangoro seemed satisfied, and inspected Mink as well, them Meganium. Before Pangoro could step closer to Clear, Aoba stepped in front of it.

“Thank you, really you were a big help! You can go home now!” 

Aoba tried to shoo the pokemon away, but jostled his bag enough for an empty pokeball to slip out. It landed in a tuft of grass, startling Pangoro. It took a step back, hackles raised.

“Sorry, sorry! That was just an accident, I’m not trying to- Ah!” Pangoro cut him off with a growl.

Mink ducked in close, “It thinks you've issued a challenge. It won't back down.”

“Okay, you want to fight? We’ll fight.” Aoba steeled himself.

It's not Ren, but Shigure that Aoba chose. The bird burst free, ready for battle. His arms were ablaze, flames licking harmlessly over his scales as he charged Pangoro.

‘Shigure, be gentle. He’s just testing us.’ Aoba spoke easily in Shigure’s mind.

The Blaziken nodded, throwing a few kicks and jabs to test Pangoro;s reflexes. It was much slower, struggling to block even the half-hearted attacks.

‘Good, just like that. Wear it down’

Shigure followed Aoba’s commands flawlessly, moving faster than Pangoro could follow to beat around it's defenses until it dropped to it's knees from exhaustion. Shigure instantly backed away, watching nervously as Aoba approached. He shook up the last dregs of the potion and doses the subdued Pangoro. He tucked the empty bottle away, and the massive bear lurched to its feet, staggering to the fallen pokeball. Before Aoba could stop it, it pushed the button to catch itself. The pokeball twitched once, then locked and streamed the data to Aoba’s pokegear.

“We’ll stop at the next trail station.” Mink said.

They dust themselves off and carry on, now on high alert. They sent Altaria and Talonflame to scout ahead, while keeping a steady pace beside Meganium. The forest remained quiet into the early afternoon when they finally find a rest stop and break for lunch. Aoba ran their exhausted pokemon inside to be healed while Mink dug through his packs for food. Inside there was only limited staff and a lone old man with a greying Manectric. The woman behind the counter eyed Aoba suspiciously when he handed over their pokemon, and the same aura fills the room. He took their pokemon back with a brief ‘Thank you’ and hurried out. 

“Something’s going on out here, I don’t like it.” Aoba muttered.

“How so?” Mink asked.

Clear and Koujaku snapped to attention.

“Everyone’s on edge in there, I'll bet those Morphine thugs were here first. Or, they come here a lot.” Aoba paused, “Those guys said something about searching your bags, what if they're robbing people out here? Or worse.”

Mink’s face falls in thought, then he nodded, “It's likely.”

“Likely? I’d bet on it.” Koujaku sneered, “They don't have a rigid structure like that old Team Rocket, the lowest ranks are left to do as they please. They're just a reserve of dumb muscle. It's the higher-ups that work directly for Toue and do his dirty work.”

“You know an awful lot about a secret organization.” Mink studied him hard.

“You can thank my ‘father’ for that. He blackmailed me, forced me to take up the family ‘business’.” Koujaku set his food down, appetite suddenly gone.

“What could he possibly blackmail you with?” Mink asked incredulously.

“My mother.” Koujaku glared, and his eyes were tellingly wet.

Mink’s face instantly softened, and he backed down. The sudden tension put everyone off their food, so they packed up what remained and fed the scraps to Meganium and the birds. They rested a while longer, then returned to the trail.

It was silent the rest of the day. The trees that should've been filled with birdsong and buzzing wings were unsettlingly empty, and they didn't encounter a single traveler. Huracan and Sigilyph joined Beni and Altaria in their patrol, searching far ahead. Clear tried to keep up a conversation, and Aoba was glad for something to distract from the stillness. There was still a thick tension between Mink and Koujaku that they didn’t want to meddle with.

 

When the sun started to set, Mink pulled them far off the trail until they found a suitable clearing to make camp. He cleared branches and wove them into the trees that faced the trail to block any light from their campfire. Aggron helped scrape the area smooth and dig a pit for the fire, which Aoba and Clear lined with stones. The two set off with the last of the sunlight to gather what wood they could find, leaving Mink and Koujaku to their own devices. Mink busied himself setting up tinder to start the fire, while Koujaku picked at his nails. Beni sat on his shoulder, picking up on his trainer’s sour mood. After a long while, Mink sighed heavily.

“I was out of line before. I know you weren't involved with Morphine, I shouldn’t have been so accusing. I… hope you can accept my apology.” he said.

Koujaku softened a little. “I know you have your reasons. And, I have mine. But we’ve both survived a lot…”

Koujaku paused, then shot up straight.

“I remember you know.” he said.

“You what?” Mink snapped to attention.

“I remembered hearing about this lone tribesman going against Toue’s forces during the trial years.it was a long time before we ever got hold of pictures, and the first were just grainy security cam stills, but better ones came from Oval Tower.” Koujaku chuckled, “I'm surprised your hair’s back to normal after what you did to it.”

“How did you-?” Mink what honestly shocked.

“Exact same pokemon, you didn't hide your face either. And… your eyes are the same.” Koujaku fiddled with the collar of his jacket.

Mink eyed him curiously, but went back to setting up camp.

Clear and Aoba walked a little deeper into the trees, gathering fallen branches. There was plenty to be found, so they didn’t need to go far.

“I can hold everything, just load me up!” Clear offered.

“Well, if you insist.” Aoba laughed.

He stacked what he already gathered in Clear’s arms, and picked around for more. Then, Aoba found his mind wandering.

“Hey, Clear?” he asked.

“Yes?” 

“You didn’t any problems earlier, when the Pangoro showed up. Was it easier?” Aoba grabbed another stick.

“A little…? I mean, it all happened so fast, I didn’t have time to think.” Clear hummed.

Aoba nodded, and hefted another stack of wood.

“Think this is enough?” he wheezed.

“Yes.” Clear said weakly.

Arms shaking from the weight of their loads, they started back to camp. The going was slower, and they started to stumble in the dark.

“I think we’re off track…” Clear stopped, and strained his ears., “There! I can hear Mink! Back this was a little more…”

Clear guided them carefully, pausing twice more to orient himself to the voices of their companions.

“You really are amazing, Clear.” Aoba laughed, and bumped their shoulders.

“It's nothing, I just have good hearing.” Clear flushed a lovely pink all the way up to his ears.

“They were back at camp a moment later and almost scared Koujaku out of his skin. Even Mink laughed, before helping unload the wood. Clear and Aoba sat down gratefully and watched Mink. He broke off smaller twigs to build up around the fine tinder, but Koujaku stopped him before he could strike a match.

“Save those, we've got all the fire we need. Beni!” the bird swooped down to his arm.

Beni blasted the center of the pit and the tinder caught instantly. The bigger twigs followed and Mink quickly piled on more wood to build up a sizable blaze. While the fire settled, Mink unpacked some gear to start dinner. It was simple, more soup, but they were glad to have actual food. They relaxed for a while, just watching the fire while the pot simmered and the sky darkened completely. Sigilyph and Claydol took up a patrol around the camp and into the woods to ease their nerves. After dinner, it took some careful work with the help of Milotic to clean the dinner dishes, but soon the chores were done and they unrolled their new sleeping bags.

Mink took a spot nearest to the trees, with Koujaku close at his left. Aoba of course stuck close to Koujaku, and Clear didn't want to be far from anyone. They syripped off shoes, socks, jackets, and-in Mink’s case- shirts and finally settle down to sleep. They mumbled a few ‘goodnights’, and laid back to watch to stars wheel overhead.


	4. Danger

A rustle and crash woke Mink and Koujaku sometime the next morning, they looked for the source, a fight brimming in their blood. But all they found was a dazed Pachirisu, looking up at the tree it had fallen out of with apparent disgust. Mink and Koujaku shared a relieved sigh, and watched the pokemon scamper back into the woods with an offended huff. They settled down, yawning and scratching a morning itch, and Koujaku found himself staring as Mink stretched. No one with eyes could deny he was handsome, and well-built. Not even Koujaku. And that was a thought that was hard to acknowledge, and Koujaku had no idea what to make of it. He shook his head, and crawled out of his sleeping bag.

“Takin’ a leak, be right back.” Koujaku mumbled.

Mink only grunted in response. Koujaku shuffled off a little deeper into the woods behind a sizable bush and went about his business. He zipped up and a white blur streaked through his peripheral. His head snapped to the side, and there, pausing in a shaft of sunlight, something watched him. Pure white fur, and curved black horn, too-human eyes that locked with Koujaku’s. It let out an unearthly howl, then bounded off deeper into the forest. Koujaku ran back to camp, where Aoba and Clear were now awake.

“Koujaku, did you hear-?” Aoba started to ask.

“It was an Absol. I saw it back there.” Koujaku cut him off.

Mink’s frown deepened, “We should go, now. That may have been a warning.”

The camp was a blur of activity as everyone dressed and packed. Clear doused the ashes, while Aoba scattered leaves and branches back over what they cleared away. Meganium was loaded with her pack, later Claydol and Sigilyph returned with no news. Still, they left the way they came and started back on the lonely trail. It was quiet, unnervingly so. There were no birds, bugs, or little scurriers in the undergrowth. For hours they walked without a word, only snacking on what they could dig out of the packs.

By mid-day they arrived at another trail station, bigger than the last. There was a kitchen, and showers they rushed to take advantage of. Clean, dried, and soon properly fed, they forgot their earlier apprehension. Mink double-checked a map to measure their progress, and gave a nod of satisfaction. They were perhaps two more days away, weather permitting. Before they could leave, the lone attendant caught their attention. She talked in hushed whispers over the phone, something more serious than idle gossip. Clear caught a few words, ‘thugs’ and ‘weapons’ and ‘coming’. The lady hung up, face pale.

“I wouldn't go out there, another station called. There's a gang coming this was, and they're armed. We have to lock down, there are panic shutters for the doors and windows-” she started to tremble, and looked utterly terrified.

“Mink, wwe can't leave her alone!” Clear tugged on his sleeve.

Clear needn’t have bothered asking, Mink was already locking the front door. Koujaku helped secure the building, while Clear comforted the attendant, who was on the verge of hyperventilating. His voice was like magic, soothing her until she was calm enough to give proper directions.

“Here’s the key for the shutters, they only lock and lower from the inside. And you, Blue! Go bar the back doors!” she ordered.

Aoba bristled, but did what was needed. There was a set of safety bars and locks that fit through the brackets in the doors and lock into the walls, with a handy diagram for the exact order. He secured the last brace, tested the door with a few sharp tugs and ran back to the lobby. The others had finished securing the doors and windows, and the building was eerily lit only by the overhead lights. The attendant was back behind her desk, studying the computer screen.

“Nothing, nope, empty, nadda…” she muttered, clicking rapidly.

“Something wrong?” Clear asked.

“Well, not yet. There are cameras all around here we use to watch the trails, two views of the front door, two of the back, and one pointing down each end of the trail. And so far, it's all empty…” she sighed, “I mean, I’m sure you know about these assholes, they act like they own Kalos. More and more of them every day, we all have to be able to lock down like some kind of inside-out jail.” 

Mink nodded grimly, “We ran into men if such description yesterday.”

“I’ll bet it's the same brat with a few more friends.” Koujaku sneered.

“And black-market megastones.” Aoba added.

The girl paled, “They have what.”

The four men glanced briefly between each other, and silently agree that it would be best to tell the truth.

“That group we met, one of them had a megastone for his Tyranitar, and no qualms about using it.” Mink said.

“Trios above.” the girl muttered, and snatched up the phone.

“This is a call to all trail stations South-West of Lumiose, we have a gang of unknown origin, possibly armed with weapons and mega-evolving pokemon. They are heading West from Station 47, begin complete lockdowns and if you can’t, evacuate to the nearest station. The safeword will be ‘Full Restore’ for entry and ‘Revive’ to end lockdown. I will be alerting local police immediately, just do as I say!” she barked.

As promised, she ended that call and dialed the next number on the list. The phone rang twice and suddenly cut out. There was a sharp knock on the shuttered doors that made everyone tense.

“Little Grumpig, let us in!” a muffled voice called.

The attendant shrieked, and scrambled to pull the right camera. Flicking through the feeds they saw one thug at the back door, a dozen on the trail and three very familiar faces at the front door. They all wore the same pinned black hoodies, some carried baseball bats and crowbars, and there a few telltale flashes of rainbow keystones in the crowd.

“Arceus.” Koujaku hissed.

“Shut up.” the girl snapped. She hit a button on an intercom and the thug’s voices were suddenly clear. 

“What’s the safe word?” she asked.

“Awww, c’mon darlin’, don’t be like that-” the leader drawled.

“What. Is. The. Safeword.” she repeated.

“We don't know nothin ‘bout that, it's awful scary out here’”

“Drop the act Nile, she knows. C’mon there's no one here.” the other thug said, and turned to leave.

The leader, Nile, rolled his eyes and sneered, “Always so quick to give up.”

“I’m sure that last place warned every station in Kalos, and if we haven’t found that old guy by now I doubt he's here.” the other snapped.

“And what if I wanna check every station in Kalos?” Nile surged up in the other thug’s face, his own beet red.

“You go do that then, you ain’t the boss. You've gone all sortsa cocky since you stole that keystone.” the thug shoved Nile back.

Both of Niles ‘friends’ left him at the door, and rejoined the larger group on the trail. There was a sharp rattle at the back door, but soon that thug joined the rest. Soon it was just Nile at the door, red-faced and seething. 

“I’ll be comin back don't you worry princess.”

Nile stomped after the others, and everyone in the station heaved a sigh of relief.

“Let’s wait a bit, then check the phone line. It's tamper-resistant so they may have just unplugged it…” the attendant sighed.

After a good while of constant monitoring, they figured it was safe. Aoba went out to check the cables, and re-plugged the wire. By the time he got back inside the attendant was already ranting into the phone. Clear only shrugged when Aoba gave him a questioning look.

“Okay, okay I’m sorry… they don’t exactly train us for hostile gang activity out here.” she muttered, “But yes- we’re still locked down, Station 46, just me and four travelers.”

“Um, actually we need to go-” Aoba said.

“You're witnesses, you can't leave!” she shouted.

“Look, miss-” Koujaku tried to interrupt.

“My name is Clara, and you are not leaving!” 

They all winced from the sharp pitch of her voice.

“And the police are almost here anyway.” Clara crossed her arms.

It was almost 20 minutes of awkward silence before there was a knock.

Clara jumped for the intercom, “What’s the safeword?”

“Full Restore.” a voice answered.

Clara almost sobbed in relief and ran to the door with the key. There were half a dozen Kalos Mounted Police waiting outside, their Gogoat partners waiting patiently. The lead officer was a rather short, severe looking woman, who eyed them all cautiously before stepping inside.

“I assume you have a recording from all your cameras?” she asked.

“Oh, yes i've made a few copies of everything from today.” Clara fetched a thumb drive, proudly handing it over.

“Good, and we’ll need statements from… everyone.” her attention snapped back to the four men, “I am Officer Jennings, KMP. As I’m sure you've noticed, we don’t tolerate gang activity of any kind around here.”

“Wha-? We aren’t in any gang! They went after us!” Clear protested.

“And why would that be?” Jennings’ eyes hardened.

“Because they don’t like being beaten at their own game.” Mink stepped between them, “They accosted us yesterday and we drove them off so they gathered some ‘friends’ to try and stoke their egos.”

Jennings considered Mink a moment, then nodded.

“Sounds likely. We’ll need you to describe the incident, the other officers will take care of that.” she waved her coworkers inside.

Mink, Aoba, Clear and Koujaku were pulled to seperate rooms to tell the story of the day before, and their account were more or less identical. It took more than an hour to finish the interviews, and afterwards Aoba fussed over his pokegear.

“We’ve lost so much time! Wed have to make camp in two hours if we left now…”

“Left for where?” a junior officer asked.

“Ah- Lumiose?” Aoba replied.

“You sure are taking the long way, on foot too.” she said.

“I prefer this route. There are herbs this way that I collect.” Mink said smoothly.

The officer simply shrugged.

Outside, the Gogoat brayed wildly, and there was a moment of panic. Jennings stepped outside to calm the massive goats and Aoba peeked out the door. A bus idled on the trail, and the driver shouted through the open door to Jennings, who turned back to the station after their conversation.

“The emergency shuttle is here, it'll be stopping in Camphrier and Lumiose. I highly recommend that you take it. We still haven't found a single one of those gangsters.” she huffed.

“Um…” Aoba looked to the others.

Koujaku and Clear quickly agreed, but Mink hesitated. Sure they would get there in two hours instead of three days, but they would have no time to plan their entry into the city. But, they would be unlikely to run into trouble again.

“Let’s go then.” Mink finally said.

They stuffed Meganium’s bags into the side storage and finally board. They took the last two seats, Koujaku sliding in next to Aoba, and Mink next ot Clear. The bus rumbled to life and continued down the road, kicking up a trail of dust.

The hours passed. The stop in Camphrier came and went, and somehow both Aoba and Clear fell asleep. Far ahead, the lights of Lumiose and Prism Tower rose above the trees and dirt roads turned to pavement. Soon enough they were parked outside the main gate, and the last few passengers disembarked. Koujaku and Mink struggled to wake their sleeping companions, and naturally Aoba took more work. By the time he stumbled off the bus Meganium was already reloaded with her bags. Clear rubbed his eyes, and Mink shook his head (but still looked oddly fond). The sun was well on it's way down, bathing the countryside gold. They joined the crowd, and Koujaku had to usher Clear and Aoba on form where they were leaning sleepily on each other. The streams of people thickened as they passed through the gate before they disperse, leaving the four men to pause, wondering where to go. Aoba pulled up a map, Koujaku and Mink argued, and Clear tried to ask passersby for directions.

“Hey, the Poke Center is just a few-” Aoba stopped, and shook his head.

“I’ve been here, is two blocks from Rough!” Koujaku insisted.

“That's halfway across the city, South Boulevard is closer.” Mink replied.

“That lady said we can take Vert-” Clear tried to interject.

“Guys!” Aoba shouted.

The other three froze.

“It's three blocks that way.” he jerked a thumb to the right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm damn proud of that pun you better like it


	5. Sanctuary

The shuffled along after Aoba, who walked with a hand on poor Meganium’s neck. Her eyelids drooped and her head sagged against Aoba’s shoulder. The fatigue rolled off her like oil, clinging to her bones, but fierce love and loyalty kept her going. Something, a flash…? sparkled high between the rooftops. Aoba snapped to attention, looking for the source when he caught another flash. There was something hidden in the eaves of an apartment building, it's shadow moving fast and springing into the open air. Finally in the light, he could see it properly. A huge, sleek Noivern circled once above them, some contraption around it's neck flashing a few more times. It chittered, swooping away down an alley. Aoba turned to ask the others if they had seen what just happened, and found them in the thick of another argument, completely oblivious. Meganium groaned, nudging Aoba forward. She was just as eager for rest as everyone else. So, Aoba relented. He could at least tell Mink later, he could have some insight. If it was some sort of lookout for that gang, they couldn't afford to ignore it.

Anxiety gnawed at his gut the rest of the way to the pokemon Center, and long after they settled in for the night. Aoba tossed and turned, unable to relax, and he could sense Mink was still awake too. He kicked off the sheets and padded over to Mink’s cot so quietly the man was startled when Aoba touched his shoulder.

“Aoba? What-” he mumbled.

“I need to tell you something. Can we go outside?” Aoba whispered.

Mink grunted, rolling stiffly out of bed and following Aoba to the hall.

“It may have been nothing, but on the way here something weird happened. There was a Noivern on the rooftops, and I think it had a camera. It was flying around and taking pictures of us.” Aoba swallowed thickly, trying to meet Mink’s concerned eyes.

“You're sure? It didn't have any police markers?” Mink asked.

“No, nothing like that. Just a camera or something around it's neck. It flew around us and then went down an alley, one of the creepy ones.” Aoba bit his lip.

“I don’t like it. We probably aren't safe here.” Mink sighed, and hesitated a moment before patting Aoba’s shoulder, “Thank you, for telling me. We’ll talk more in the morning. You need rest.”

Aoba nodded. Just talking soothed his nerves, and as soon as he hit the bed he fell asleep. IN the morning, all was quiet. No terrorist panic, no gang intimidation, nothing. Aoba shared the events of the evening before with Koujaku and Clear, and they were equally as worried. They're far too close to that alley, that Noivern could have led anyone right to them. But, it didn’t. And that was almost just as concerning.

“They’ll probably be checking the Centers. I know a guy, and a place we can lay low for a while. There are apartments above his store.” Koujaku said.

“And who is this ‘guy’” Mink raised an eyebrow.

“Mizuki. And I trust him with my life. He helped me hide when I escaped from my father.” Koujaku grimaced, and Aoba patted his shoulder, “It’s deeper in the city, off Rough Street. Real nondescript, easy to miss.”

Mink nodded, “Then we should go.”

Clear and Aoba agreed, so they pack up and load Meganium again for the last short walk. Koujaku led the way, while Aoba and Mink scanned the rooftops for any movement. The streets pass, so many that Aoba quickly lost track, but Koujaku led them well. In a little alley off a red-bricked street, Koujaku knocked on an unmarked door, then waited. One minute passes, then another. As he rose his fist to knock again, the door jerked open startling them all. In the doorway, a young man mumbled apologies while trying to comb fingers through his messy red hair. He was obviously still half-asleep, and froze when he realized exactly who was at his door.

“Koujaku? What are you-” he wheezed.

“Inside, I’ll explain.” he pushed Mizuki back inside and gestures for the others to follow.

In side appears to be some kind of bar or lounge, with long counters and high-topped tables around the edges of the room. The floor was richly carpeted and the walls painted a warm, dark red, all dimly lit by blown-glass light fixtures. They pass through a curtained doorway behind the bar into an average kitchen, where Mizuki leaned against the counter.

“What did you do this time?” Mizuki groaned, “It’s been a week.”

“Okay, the friend I was going back for? This is him.” Koujaku rested a hand on Aoba’s shoulder, “And noe Morphine and probably Tour himself are out for us. Well, mostly Aoba, and Clear. I’m sorry to ask you for help again, but we need to lay low for a while.”

Mizuki sighed heavily, “Let me have my coffee and you can try explaining that again.”

Mizuki filled up the coffee maker, and set out mugs, milk and sugar while it hissed and bubbled. He waited, leaning on the counter again and rubbing his face.

“We’ll get to names in a bit. I’m worthless in the mornings, sorry.” he smiled sheepishly.

Only now did Aoba really look at this guy, Mizuki. Red hair, skin even darker than Mink’s, and the most brilliant green eyes Aoba had ever seen. Ghostly tattoos mark his cheek and throat, and Aoba only realized he was staring when Mizuki awkwardly cleared his throat. Aoba snapped his gaze away, and he only shrugged when Clear looked at his curiously.

When the coffee was done, Mink, Koujaku and Mizuki fix themselves a mug. Mizuki drains his first in one long gulp, then refills his mug to take a few more relaxed sips.

“First thing’s first. Who are all of you, and why are you in my house before noon. No offence.” Mizuki took another sip.

“The short version? Toue and Company are after Aoba, and this guy by extension-” Koujaku pointed to Clear, “- and we wound up needing more help getting here, which is how this guy came in.”

Mink just grunted in response, sipping his coffee.

“But why? Toue can just buy anything he wants, what does he need with them? Unless you like, stole something.” Mizuki just looked more and more confused.

“Well, as it turns out Toue has a liking for illegal genetic experiments. I was taken from the labs, and so was Clear a few years after. Koujaku heard from Toue’s underground forces that he was trying to locate me again, so I guess he cares now they we’re gone. We just need to hide until we come up with a better plan.” 

Mizuki set his mug down to rub circles into his temples.

“So, Toue made you, you escaped, and now he’s got the worst group of thugs since Team Rocket out after you.” Mizuki said, slowly.

“Well, yes. And they may know we’re here, there was this Noivern at the gate that took pictures of us-” Clear said.

“Wait, a Noivern?” Mizuki perked up a bit, “A big one, with a camera on it's neck? And a big chip out of it's ear.”

Clear and Aoba glanced at each other, before Aoba answered.

“Yes? How did you-”

“I've heard about that thing the last few weeks. People getting their pictures taken, and getting challenged the next day to a winner-takes-all pokemon battle in some shady alley. I don't think anyones taken up that offer, I mean who would agree to that? But, it sounds like one person, it's hardly Morphine tactics.” Mizuki said.

Aoba sighed in relief, “Well, that’s some good news at least.”

“I agree. But this isn't a person to play around with, it's best to avoid anything that will draw attention to ourselves.” Mink hummed in thought.

“For once, I agree.” Koujaku chuckled.

“Well, the apartment is free. You can stay for a few days at least. No offence to you guys, but I run a business here, I can't really risk drawing all of Morphine to my doorstep.” Mizuki smiled apologetically.

“We understand. This is a lot to ask of you, anything would’ve helped. So, thank you for your kindness.” out of habit, Aoba bowed deeply.

“Um, sure. You can go drop off your stuff, the stairs are around the corner.”

Mizuki pointed to the left, and went back to nursing his coffee, muttering to himself. Clear helped Mink with the saddlebags, and even with the two of them it was tough going up the twisting stairs. At the first landing, Koujaku opened a plain door to the apartment, and helped Clear with his half of the bags. The rooms were sparse, lacking any decorations and only held the bare minimum of furniture, but it hardly mattered.

“So, what now?” Clear finally asked.

“For now, we relax.” Mink took out their stash of dishes to give them a proper wash.

“We can figure something out later.” Koujaku agreed.

Clear and Aoba shutter the windows before dropping heavily onto the couch, removing coats and shoes with happy sighs. Aoba turned on the little TV, finding the local news channels. There wasn’t much to see, just the usual international and fluff pieces. Weather and commercials come and go, then ‘Breaking News’ flashed across the screen. An image of three familiar man being loaded into a police van, along with half a dozen others, fills the screen while the anchor delivers the report.

“Mink! It's those Morphine guys!” Clear shouted.

Aoba turned up the volume as Mink and Koujaku came to watch.

“Several suspects were arrested earlier this morning, believed to be part of a gang menacing trainers, travelers, and rest stations along routes West of Lumiose. Several stolen Mega and Keystones were found in their possession, along with crude weapons. They are believed to be part of a gang known only as ‘Morphine’, identified with this symbol-”

A collection of winged-heart Morphine pins was shown on the screen.

“If you see anyone wearing this symbol, get to a safe location and call your local police station. These men should be considered armed and dangerous, do not engage with anyone suspected of being a Morphine member. We will continue to update you on this story throughout the day.” the newscasters shuffle their papers and switch to a new story, something about a refurbished gym in Kanto.

Aoba raked a hand through his hard, leaning back with a relieved sigh.

“Well, that’s good news. Getting what they deserve.” Koujaku kicked his heels up on the coffee table, settling back with a satisfied grin.

“One less thing to worry about.” Aoba agrees.

“We can't let our guard down just yet. That trainer with the Noivern is still out there.” Mink cautions.

Clear followed Mink back to the kitchen to help clean and cook a late breakfast. To finally have a moment of peace again was wonderful. Mink actually humored Clear and let the younger man take charge at the stove, tasting and adjusting the contents of the bubbling pot. They spoke softly, and Mink explained the traditional blends of flavors and ingredients his family used. Clear listens with rapt attention while still trying to keep an eye on the food. Something about Mink seemed more relaxed, and he looked more like the young man Aoba had seen in his pokemon’s memories. Aoba;s thoughts were interrupted by a muted crash downstairs, followed by muffled shouts. Koujaku shot to his feet, and is halfway down the stairs before anyone else could react. Aoba was next to follow.

“Mizuki! Are you-” Koujaku froze as he rounded the corner, then he laughed.

Confused, Aoba peeked over his shoulder. Wedged in the kitchen door is a massive, blocky, flat skull. Mizuki heaves against it, trying to push the pokemon back into the larger room despite it's whines of protest. How on Earth did that get inside?

“Steelix you idiot what did I tell you about breaking out?!” Mizuki huffed, “Shut up and help me Koujaku or you're picking up after him!”

That got Koujaku moving, and Aoba followed. The massive pokemon had tried to jam his head sideways through the door and was either stuck, or refused to go back. Koujaku scratched under his jaw, and Steelix relaxed enough for Mizuki to shove his head free. He grumbled and coiled back on himself. Retreating further into the bar. Mizuki stomped after him, digging behind the counter for his fallen pokeball, grumbling profanities to himself. By the time he found it, Steelix was curled in a despondent pile on the far side of the room, sad eyes barely peering over the coils of his body.. Steelix weren’t among the wisest pokemon, still Aoba could feel the hurt radiating off him. Aoba brushed past Koujaku and Mizuki, and Steelix watched curiously as he approached. His tongue flickered, tasting the air. Aoba climbed up his piled coils, taking a seat near the great snake’s head. He rubbed along Steelix’s jaw as Koujaku had, and Steelix turned his head into Aoba’s hands.

“Great, now he’ll never leave me alone.” Mizuki sighed, “C’mon, back in you big baby.”

Aoba turned on him, eyes blazing, “Do you ever let him out?! I've never seen a pokemon this depressed, no wonder he's trying to break doors down!”

“Things have gotten busy here, I don’t have time to let him out most days! I don’t exactly have a backyard to play in either.” Mizuki huffed.

“Why would you keep a pokemon this big in a city anyway? You-!” Aoba seethed.

“Aoba, hey calm down-” Koujaku stepped between the two.

“No Koujaku, this isn't fair and you know it.” Aoba took a deep breath, to steady himself, “Mizuki, I’m sorry but this isn't fair, for you or him. There are sanctuaries all over the place-”

Aoba squawked as Steelix dematerialized underneath him and he dropped to the floor. He winced, rubbing the shoulder that took the brunt of the fall. Mizuki returned the pokeball to it's place behind the counter, and leaned his face into his hands. He drew a shaky breath.

“I know. But I just can’t…”

Koujaku pulled Aoba up, whispering, “Go back upstairs, I’ll talk to him.”

Aoba complied, feeling a twinge of guilt. He flopped on the couch, offering only the briefest explanations when Clear gave him a questioning look. A good while passed, and they ate without Koujaku. When he finally came back, he ignored the breakfast they had saved for him and took Aoba by the hand. Koujaku dragged Aoba to one of the bedrooms and closed the door.

“Koujaku, what-?” Aoba stumbled along.

“I'm sorry, but I have to explain. About Mizuki.” Koujaku sat on the bed, “He knows it's not fair, but his pokemon are all he really has. He never had much of a family, just someone that occasionally made sure he didn’t starve. As soon as he could, he left. The pokemon he has now have been with him through some of the hardest parts of his life. It's like asking you to get rid of Ren.”

Aoba winced, guilt coming back full-force. He sat next to Koujaku, head hanging low.

“Should… I go apologize?” he asked eventually.

“Maybe in a bit. Just, give him some time.” Koujaku gave him a quick hug.

They sat like that for a while, and Koujaku’s stomach rumbled.

“We left you some breakfast, but it's probably cold.” Aoba chuckled

“Eh, microwaves exist.” Koujaku shrugged.

They returned to the main room, where Clear and Mink were focused on the television. The news was back on, switching to a story on-

“Toue.” Aoba hissed.

“Aoba! They're talking about some new project, the press conference just started!” Clear informed them.

Aoba and Koujaku hurried to the free spots of the couch as Toue tapped the microphone on his podium. Camera flashed light the stage, and he waved briefly to the murmuring crowd.

“Good afternoon, and thank you for coming! As you all know, Toue Inc. strives to push the boundaries of science every day with our research in pokemon and human DNA. And today, I am proud to announce the result of over two decades of hard work: the world’s first human/pokemon hybrid!” with a grand gesture, the curtains behind him part a few feet, allowing a lone figure to walk into the spotlight. The crowd gasped, and a storm of flashbulbs almost hid the figure from view. But when the camera refocused, it was Aoba’s turn to be stunned silent.

It was like looking into a mirror. Sure, his eyes and hair were black, but in every other aspect he was Aoba’s double. He looked forlornly out into the crowd, eyes empty and unfocused, and Aoba’s heart ached. The camera cut back to Toue, and Aoba’s twin moved to stand beside him.

“Yes, he looks completely human, it is only a tiny percentage of DNA that we introduced. But, in doing so we have artificially endowed a human with psychic powers, and this is only the beginning of our research! In the future we hope to edit the DNA of fully-grown humans, expand what powers humans can wield and-” a shout from the audience cuts him off.

“Did you even consider the ethics of this?! You can’t just tamper with a living thing!” a reporter bellows.

A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd, and Toue’s sculpted smile briefly flickers into a bitter scowl. He quickly regains his composure.

“I assure you, years of research proceeded even the most basic tests-”

“A child can't consent to medical procedures, especially before they’re even born! What gives you the right to decide? How many failures were there, for one success!?” another shouts.

More protests erupt from the crowd, and security arrives to usher Toue and Aoba’s twin off the stage. The feed cut back to the studio where the anchors nervously fiddle with their papers.

“Well, some… controversial news from the founder of Toue Inc., more detailed will be in later today. Next-” 

Mink shut the TV off. Everyone snuck glances at Aoba, who’s blank gaze shifted from the screen to the floor.

“Just before we met Mink, I got a message. I think it was him.” Aoba’s throat tightened, “He’s trapped there, they’re hurting him. He needs my help-”

“What? How do you know it was-” Koujaku started.

“I don’t know!” Aoba interrupted, “I just know it's him.”

“It could be a trap.” Mink said.

“Or he’s really in trouble!” Clear argued.

“Hey, there's going to be more news later, let’s just wait and see what else we don’t know.” Koujaku tried to mediate.

They agreed, reluctantly.

Time passed and the atmosphere was tense. They eventually turned the news back on with the volume low. Aoba scanned his Gear for more information, but only found fresh articles on the controversy. Some were even calling for a federal investigation of the company, but that would probably be fruitless. Other demanded the immediate release of the mysterious young man, name still unknown. Koujaku wanted to wait, but Aoba had already made up his mind. If the others didn't agree, he would go to Platinum Jail himself.

As the sun set and Mink started dinner, the evening news began. There were a few boring pieces before they finally returned to Toue Inc.

“In light of today’s controversial press conference, Toue Inc has issued an additional statement, they ‘Assure the public that their newest experiment is treated like any other employee at Toue Inc., and absolutely no unethical experimentation has taken place. Other hybrid experiments were started, but the children were later adopted by research staff when they failed to show any change to their DNA. No further testing will take place until we consult our legal experts.’ Their full statement, and the video from today’s earlier conference will be available on our website-”

“What a lovely lie.” Aoba snarled, turning the TV off.

“They wouldn't dare admit the truth, there's too much money on the line.” Koujaku agrees.

“It's still too risky. You'd just be walking right into Toue’s hands. And it's not just you Aoba, Clear’s in the same danger. Would you ask him to take that risk, after all that was done to get you out?” Mink’s stare was hard.

Aoba wilted, and Clear shifted uncomfortably.

“No. I couldn’t.” he finally said.

“Then we stay, for now at least. We need to find someplace more secluded…”

Mink and Koujaku start to argue once again, and Aoba slunk back to a bedroom. His bag was still packed, he could sneak out when everyone else was asleep, take some food and a sleeping bag… A quiet knock on the door made him freeze.

“Aoba? Can I come in?” came Clear’s muffled voice.

“Uh, sure.”

The door opened quietly and Clear slipped inside. He fidgeted a moment, before crossing the room to wrap Aoba in a hug. After a moment, Aoba hugged back. They both sigh, knowing what must really be happening in Oval Tower.

“I’m sorry. I want to help your brother too. So what if it's dangerous, we can't just leave him there…” Clear’s voice cracked.

“I know. But, getting ourselves caught won't help him either.” Aoba rubbed circles between Clear’s shoulders.

“But… there were four of us, weren't there? The ‘adoptions’ were an excuse for us being gone, and Gramps doesn’t know what happened after he left with me. But… I had a brother too. Did he escape?” his voice grew quiet, “Does he look like me?”

“I don't know. But… I hope he does. The world needs more people like you, Clear.” Aoba squeezed him a little tighter.

He could feel Clear smile against his shoulder, and a wave of shyness rolled off him. He suddenly perked up, turning towards the door. 

“Ah! Mink is looking for us, I think dinner is ready.”

Clear dragged Aoba out by the hand.

They eat in relative silence, Koujaku and Aoba take their turn cleaning up afterwards. They showered one by one, and got ready to finally sleep on proper beds. Aoba left his clothes out so he wouldn’t have to grope for them in the dark, and left his boots and jacket in the living room. Koujaku crawled into bed first, stretching and muffling a yawn.

“I’m coming.” Aoba chuckled.

He turned off the lamp and slips under the covers, sinking into the soft mattress. This bed was bigger than most of the others they’ve had to share, but they still kept close. It was so warm, he could fall right to sleep…

“I'm sorry, about your brother.” Koujaku sighed.

The shock was like ice down Aoba’s spine.

“It's not your fault Koujaku. Mink is right.” Aoba said bitterly.

“But-” Koujaku cut himself off.

Searching through the sheets, Aoba found Koujaku’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He tried not to notice the faint hitch in Koujaku’s breath.

“We’ll think some something. Let’s just get some sleep.”

When Koujaku’s breath fell even and slow, Aoba slid out of bed. He could feel the Mink and Clear were fast asleep in the other room, so he dressed quickly. He stashed some food in his bag, and tucked a sleeping bag under his arm. Halfway down the stairs Aoba realized the bar was open, and busy. Cursing under his breath, he peeked around the corner and spied a door he hadn’t noticed before. It was in the far corner of the kitchen, with the kind of heavy locks that only go on outside doors…

The door opened into a back alley. Aoba turned the lock on the knob and closed the door firmly, and jogged out to one of the central streets. He stuck to the sidewalk, studying the map he’d saved. Two blocks further, then a left, exit the city at the Southeast gate then it's a straight shot to the League villa and Platinum Jail. Ideally. Half the roads weren’t named and Aoba soon found himself twisting deeper into the city. Street lights got fewer and farther between, and the allies got deeper and darker. Aoba walked faster, trying to find some familiar street. He turned a corner and nearly collided with the two men standing there.

“Ah! I'm sorry, I wasn’t looking where-!” he paused, finally looking up.

The men were almost identical. Almost. Both blond, with light eyes and heavily styled hair, and wearing rather fancy clothes for the time of night. The shorter of the two brushed down the front of his blazer, then offered an unnerving smile. Without a word, the two walked away, trailed at a distance by a faintly glowing Malamar.

Something was off about them in a way Aoba couldn’t quite place. But, this wasn't a good place to stop and think. Aoba ducked into aside street to catch his breath and bearings. Before he could even pull out his gear, clawed wings pulled him into the shadows.


	6. Antagonist

“I've been looking for you.” a dull, disinterested voice said.

Aoba scrambled to his feet, unable to see in the sudden darkness.

“Who are you?! One of those Morphine thugs?” he shouted.

“Morphine? I’m almost insulted.” the voice was closer now, “As if I’d get involved with people that stupid. And desperate.”

Even if his eyes adjusted, there wasn’t enough light to see anything. Wait. Light.

“Ampharos!”

The pokemon solidified, and instantly illuminated the space. Aoba had the time to cover his eyes against the glare, but his attacker had no warning. A shocked grunt just to Aoba’s right betrayed the man’s location.

‘Dim the light a little please.’ Aoba asked, and Ampharos was briefly shocked by the command, but she complied.

Aoba lowered his hand, and finally saw his attacker.

He was rain-thin, still hunched over scrubbing at his eyes. His clothes were… interesting, some punk ensemble of black, white and green, and only the knit cap and boots were appropriate for the chill. Everything else was too thin, even layered as it was. When he finally turned around, squinting hard, Aoba’s jaw dropped.

“You're just a kid.” he crossed his arms.

The boy scowled, green eyes flashing.

“How many ‘kids’ can track down Toue’s most wanted? Not that it was that hard, you're wandering around like an idiot in the worst part of the city.” he huffed.

“Hey-!” Aoba spluttered, “I got lost.”

“Obviously.” the teen’s expression hardly changed.

“And what do you know about Toue anyway? Or me for that matter.” Aoba frowned.

There was a certain proud gleam in the teen’s eyes.

“Information is worth a lot, to the right people. And they’ll pay top dollar for dirt on the richest man in Kalos, especially his most heavily guarded projects.” he paced to the center of the empty square, “Not that it was that well guarded. Idiots.”

“So, you just want to turn me in for a nice fat check?” Aoba snarled.

Ampharos picked up on his mood and hissed, wool crackling with sparks.

“I wanted to see what everyone was getting so worked up about. What makes you so ‘special’.” he stopped, facing Aoba, “Battle me.”

“What? What’s that supposed to prove?!” Aoba backed up a step.

“You're psychic right? You'd have an edge in battle. I want to see how strong you are.” the teen glared.

“I don’t fight like that kid, try harassing someone else.” Aoba turned to leave, but they way was quickly blocked by that Noivern.

“The only way you're getting out is if I get what I want.”

“No!” Aoba roared, “I won’t throw my pokemon in like poker chips! Some of us have a heart!”

“Fine, League-rules only. No fatal shots, knock-out of removal from the field ends the match.” the teen shrugged.

And for a moment, Aoba considered. This kid carried his emotions close, but there was the faintest jitter of anticipation in his core.  
‘He really wants this.’

“Fine.” Aoba spat, “One on one only.”

“Fine. Take your pick.” the teen grabbed a ball from his belt.

‘Sorry Ampharos, this isn't a fight for you.’ Aoba recalled, Ampharos, and the light left with her.

Then, he released Ren.

‘I’m sorry Ren, but we have to do this.’ the Lucario nudged his trainer’s shoulder, and jumped into the arena. Hie aural-ears flared, and through his eyes Aoba could see clearly. On the far side, the teen released his pokemon.

“Don't wimp out.” he goads, still sounding disinterested.

‘Ren, be careful. Keep your distance until we figure out what he’s planning.’

Ren chuffs, and focuses on his opponent. It's aura was a beacon in the gloom, and the poor pokemon looked completely out of it's depth. From it's shape and movements, Aoba’s best guess was a Lopunny. Oh all the pokemon for a tough-guy hacker to pick. Before Aoba could really scoff, there was a twin flash of brilliant light and Aoba’s blood ran cold.

‘Don't panic.’ he thought, more for his own sake, ‘We still have an edge. They can’t see in the dark’

The Mega energy disperses and the Lopunny darts forward with manic speed. Red dodged easily, skipping away from it's next strikes with practiced ease. Lopunny lunged again, and let it slip right past.

‘Now, Aura Sphere!’ Aoba commanded.

Ren fired off a quick bolt of blue energy while Lopunny was off balance and darted away. It squealed, falling hard on the far side of the ring. Aoba winces, feeling the echo of it's pain. Still, it staggered to its feet, listening hard for something to move towards.

‘Please, we don’t want to fight you.’ Aoba tried to tell it.

The Lopunny stopped, dropping its aggressive stance. It's thoughts aren't as coherent as Ren’s, but he could still make out curious interest.

‘We don't want to hurt you.’

Lopunny’s guard lowered further, and Ren kept close, whining softly.

“Hey, this is a battle. Don't go soft.” the teen drawls.

Lopunny lunged, a spinning kick just missing the tips of Ren’s ears. He skipped back, with Lopunny following an inch behind with sweeping kicks and punches. Ren took an opening and kicked low, knocking Lopunny of it's feet. The fight was singing in his blood, as Lopunny twitched Ren snarled like he never had before.

‘Ren, NO! Keep calm, let it wear itself out.’

Ren shook his head and whined, but put more distance between them. Lopunny whimpered, barely getting to it's feet. Another Aura Sphere hit the ground right beside it, knocking the pokemon over again. It landed a few feet away in a crumpled heap, crying pitifully.

“That’s enough! We won, now stop it already!” Aoba shouted.

The teen scoffed, but withdrew Lopunny and strolled closer.

“You got lucky. But I still don't believe you're as good as they said.”

“We beat you, what more do you want?” Aoba growled.

“Proving you're psychic can't be that hard. Get creative.” he said.

There was something so infuriatingly bored about his tone that Aoba snaps. Without any warning, he links their minds and pulls up random memories. Sunburns, birthday parties, Combee stings, soft fur, warm blankets, cold snow-

The stream of thoughts was broken by a soft, broken sound, like a sob. It was still too dark to see, but through Ren’s Aura, Aoba could see the young man on his knees, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

“Wha- what was-” he stuttered.

Before Aoba could answer, a harsh, tinny sound rang out above them. Claydol and Sigilyph jet into the courtyard and immediately stand guard at Aoba’s side. They glow faintly, casting enough light to see the teen being hauled away by his Noivern. Now alone, the other pokemon relax. Ren’s ears twitch, and through him Aoba could faintly hear voices floating over the rooftops. Mink, and Koujaku…?

“C’mon, let's find the main road.” Aoba ushered the three pokemon along.

They followed the rising voices through twisting side streets, often doubling back after a wrong turn. He rounded a corner and, once again, almost collides with the someone running the other way. Strong hands steady Aoba as he staggered to a stop.

“Aoba.”

Koujaku was pale, his face drawn and stricken, his eyes red-rimmed. He sobbed, crushing Aoba against his chest. Aoba hugged back just as tightly, instantly overcome by guilt. Peeking over Koujaku’s shoulder, he spots Mink a few feet behind. His face is guarded as always, but just as much worry and relief roll off him in waves.

Koujaku finally pulls away, still gripping Aoba by the shoulders.

“What were you thinking?” his voice was strained and cheeks wet.

Aoba ducked his head, “I-” 

“Not here. Let’s get back.” Mink murmurs.

He turns them both around with a hand at Aoba’s back, warm and solid.

Sigilyph guided them back to the bar, chiming melodiously overhead. They entered through the back door, withdrawing their pokemon and trudging up the stairs. Clear had nearly worn rings into the carpet with his pacing, anxiously biting his nails. Before Aoba could even set his bag down, he was dragged into another crushing hug.

“Aoba!” he cried, “We were so worried! Koujaku couldn’t find you, then they made me stay here in case you came back-!”

“Clear, let him sit.” Mink ruffled Clear’s hair.

Aoba dropped his bag and fell into the couch. He sighed, head hanging low.

“I'm sorry, but-” he bit his lip.

“I know you want to save your brother, but you can’t do it alone.” Mink sat beside him.

“You've already risked too much for me, I couldn’t ask you to go that far.” Aoba drew a shaky breath.

“It's not just you. We all have business with Oval Tower. But we can’t go out there without thinking.” Mink rubbed slowly between Aoba’s shoulders.

Aoba leaned into the touch, suddenly overcome with fatigue. 

“It's late, and you need rest. We can talk more in the morning.” Mink sighed.

He gave Aoba’s shoulder one more pat, and returned to his room with a yawning Clear. Aoba kicked off his shoes, and shuffled to the bathroom to change again. Koujaku sat on the bed, waiting, when Aoba returned. His emotions hung thick in the air, too many and too wild to pick apart.

Fidgeting, Aoba tried to say something, “Here, I’ll get the light-”

He turned, but before he could take a step a hand fastened on his.

“Aoba.” Koujaku’s voice was tight, almost alien, “Why.”

Aoba turned his hand in Koujaku’s, lacing their fingers and squeezing tight.

“He's my brother Koujaku, I can't leave him there. Not when he's begged for my help. I wish I could explain it-” he groaned, harsh and frustrated.

He's suddenly dragged closer by a strong arm around his waist, and Koujaku's brow pressed into his sternum.

“Please. Please don’t leave again.”

He sounded so utterly broken, Aoba’s heart ached, fierce and guilty.

“I’m so sorry.” Aoba whispered.

He coiled his free arm around Koujaku’s bare shoulders, running fingers through his dark hair. His shoulders trembled faintly, so Aoba squeezed him tight.. They stayed like that for a time, until Koujaku sagged, barely able to keep his eyes open. With much poking and prodding, Koujaku slid under the covers while Aoba cut the lights. Koujaku made room, holding the sheets for Aoba to crawl in. They tangle together, and fall asleep quickly.

Clear changed first, and flops face-first into his pillow. He was bone-tired from worry, and almost fell right asleep. Almost, except for the mattress dipping beside him. He peeked up, to see Mink looking at his, face impassive.

“You shouldn't sleep with your hair like that.” he scolded.

“Wha-? Oh.” Clear ran his fingers through his hair, only to catch them in knots.

He tried to tug them loose, but Mink stopped him with a soft touch.

“Not like that, you'll tear it. Here-” he rolled off the bed to rummage in a bag, “Sit up and turn around.”

Clear obliged him, after peeking at Mink’s hands. A comb, of dark wood worn shiny and smooth by years of use, with faint designs scored above the teeth. Clear shuffled in place and Mink’s card through his hair, separating a tangled lock. He teased the knot loose, but by bit, then moved on to another spot. He picked out each tangle and somehow, doesn't tear out a single hair. The comb whispers through when Mink is done, over and over until Clear’s hair is light and shining. Mink’s hands go still for a moment, and then he places the comb on the nightstand.

“You need rest, tuck in.” he smiled faintly.

Clear could barely manage even that he was so relaxed. Flopping, wiggling and kicking half the sheets off, he got himself at least horizontal with his head at the right end of the bed. Mink huffed a little laugh, fixing the blankets and turning off the light. He stripped off his shirt and after a moment's consideration, slipped into bed. In the faint light of the window, Clear’s hair glows like a halo, soft and fine as the fairest clouds. Mink ponders how Clear, how all of these strangers, have so quickly become so important to him. Clear was so innocent, so kind, so like his own younger sister. He trusted with his life, but not blindly. Buried deep, there was a iron strength even Clear himself might not see.

Much about Aoba and Koujaku was still a mystery. They had a long history, it was obvious in how they looked at each other. But when Koujaku thought no one else was looking, he looked to be drowning in his own thoughts. There was much he kept hidden, even from himself…

Morning came with begrudging consciousness. Aoba woke first, but fell asleep again soon after, nuzzling into Koujaku’s throat. Even Mink didn't wake up until mid-morning. Noon finally saw all four men half-awake, nursing pilfered coffee. Aoba and Clear slumped on either side of Koujaku, and Mink managed to start something like lunch. As Mink brought food over, he tuts over the state of everyone else’s hair. Utterly shameful, and he wasn’t going to just let them sit there.

After finishing his food, Mink fetched his comb once again. He perched on the arm of the sofa, turning Clear with a touch to his shoulder. With just a few strokes of the comb Clear’s hair was once again light and glowing. Neither missed the curious, stolen glances from Koujaku or Aoba. Mink’s fingers itched to decorate Clear’s downy-white hair, but he had no other ties or adornments. And perhaps… it was a little too soon to think of such things. They would probably go their separate ways, once this was over. He shook his head, frowning slightly. Thoughts like that wouldn't help.

“Oi, Red. Your turn.” Mink said.

Koujaku starts, eyes flicking between Clear and Mink. Clear gathered their dishes to clean, opening up a seat for Mink. He slid down, turning sideways to face the center. Koujaku glanced at Aoba, who smiles reassuringly. He pulled Koujaku’s hands, turning him on the couch and tugged the elastic from his hair. Mink pulled the long, black hair over Koujaku’s shoulders, working his comb through inch by inch. It was so much different than Clear’s. Heavier, but also straighter, and more smooth. It soon fell in a shining curtain over one shoulder, while Mink finished the shorter locks over Koujaku’s right cheek. He drew the section back, only to have it pulled from his fingers as Koujaku flinched away. Mink glanced at Aoba, who spoke softly to his old friend. He couldn’t make out what they said, but Koujaku shook his head and mumbled an apology before retreating to his room. Aoba watched him go, sighing sadly.

“It's not your fault. It's… something Koujaku is dealing with.” Aoba tried to explain. It wasn’t right to tell Mink everything, not without Koujaku’s permission.

“Well, that just leaves you. Turn around.” Mink sighed, “I'll talk to him if he doesn't come back.”

Aoba hummed in agreement, scooting closer and pushing his hair back. Mink took up his comb once more, and it didn’t run through Aoba’s hair so much as fall. It was finer even than Clear’s and as thick as Koujaku’s, and only now Mink noticed how the color faded with it's length. This time, he allowed himself to braid, pulling three narrow strands between his fingers. He plaited them together, but still had nothing to fasten it with, so he let go and the strands slowly unravel. Aoba pulled the strand over his shoulder to see what Mink had done. The little braid continued to fall apart in his fingers, but the sight of it brought warmth to his face. Mink braided and decorated his hair every morning, it had to have some significance. And if he wanted to share that with them…

“Here, I'll fix it-” Mink fiddled with his comb.

“I saw some shops yesterday that might have hair ties small enough.” Aoba pulled away from the comb, still clutching the tiny braid.

Mink looked more surprised than Aoba had ever seen him, which still wasn't much. He glanced away, almost shyly, placing his comb on the coffee table.

“There is a place I buy from. They carry the beads we use, and sell other supplies for our crafts.” he said.

“‘We’...? Oh, your family.” Aoba bit his lip. Was that something he shouldn't mention?

“Yes. it's an old tradition.” he almost playfully ruffled Aoba’s hair, “They aren't dead. When we lost our land, everyone moved where they could. My parents, sister and some extended family are in Cyllage. And my Aunt lives here.”

Aoba sighed in relief. Before he could ask more, Clear came trotting back.

“Mink! I saw your beads on the nightstand, and since you helped with our hair, I thought we-” color rose in his cheeks.

“Might return the favor?” Mink finished for him, with a wry smile.

Clear nodded, and Mink made space for Clear to sit behind him. Aoba took the handful of ornaments while Clear found the comb. He brushed Mink’s hair with careful diligence, marveling at the thick waves and subtle shift in color, from rich brown to copper-red. From there Mink showed them what spots to braid and how to pull the loose tail of each plait through the beads with a loop of thread. He fastened the little wheel-charm himself, while Aoba and Clear looped ties under the beads they had set. Clear turned the small golden-glass bead back and forth, watching a faint rainbow shimmer over it's surface. The last two beads were a richly-colored stone, one in Aoba’s hands and the other above the charm. Mink could almost taste their curiosity, and it couldn't hurt to at least tell them, about his own traditions.

“There are many meanings for out braids. Where they are, what ornaments are on them, even the colors. These-” he pulled the largest, starting behind his left ear, “- are for siblings. The same spot at the right ear would be children, and here-” the shortest braid at his temple, “-is for those who leave home for…”

He paused, lips pursed.

“There… isn't a proper word for it, outside our language. It's a journey for those with a troubled soul, and when one returns they share what they have learned with the elders. So that someday, when a child too young to leave on their own is likewise troubled, they might learn from all our wisdom.”

He lifted the last charm, the four-spoked wheel with dangling mottled feathers.

“This is for passing into adulthood. Every one of the People of the Mountains craft their own, and each piece is part of our making. Perhaps I'll bore you with that later.” he smirked, especially at Clear’s disappointed sigh.

“Well, get dressed and let's see if we can't make something of the day.” he chuckled.

Mink took his comb to put away, and finally spotted Koujaku, now dressed, lingering in the doorway of his room. He looked away, unsure, but stood aside and held the door open so Mink could enter. He took that invitation, standing in the center of the room while Koujaku closed the door. He sighed, leaning heavily on the wood. The silence weighed heavy, and several time Koujaku opened his mouth to speak. Mink sat on the edge of the bed, quietly waiting.

“I'm sorry.” he finally said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Mink’s voice and eyes were soft, “I was unthinking, so the fault is mine. You have great pains in you, but your secrets aren't mine to take.

A shaking hand rises to Koujaku’s cheek, fingers threading through the black hair. He steeled himself, slowly pushing the locks behind his ear. Even so bared, Koujaku still hung his head, cheek turned just out of view. Mink crossed to him, taking Koujaku’s trembling hands in his.

“Don't force yourself. Healing will come in time.” Mink loosened the fall of hair so Koujaku’s face was covered again.

“We had plans to go out, you're just as welcome. If you need time, we can wait.” 

Koujaku nodded, swallowing thickly, “I'll go.”

“Take your time.” he patted Koujaku’s shoulder before giving him a push towards the bed,

Mink left the room to return to his own, leaving his comb and fetching fresh socks and his boots. He made for the bathroom to brush his teeth and nearly flattened Clear as neither were really paying attention. Mink recovered first, catching Clear by the waist before he could fall. There they froze, eyes locked and breath caught. Mink cleared his throat, looking away, and letting Clear steady himself. He feigned a cough as he continued down the hall, leaving Clear red-faced and stammering.

Once Mink left, Aoba returned to his room. Koujaku sat on the bad, eyes lost and contemplative, hardly noticing Aoba. 

“Koujaku?” he jumped at Aoba’s voice.

Aoba drew closer, and Koujaku took his hand.

“I'm alright.” he looked up with a weak smile, “Maybe it's a good thing Mink came along.”

“I did tell you.” Aoba returned his smile.

His fingers traced Koujaku’s bare cheek, and he leaned into the touch, smile spreading.

“I'll let you change then, since we have somewhere to be.” he chuckled.

Koujaku took his leave, turning on the TV to check the news. There was nothing of note, but it would pass a little more time. Clear soon joined him, sitting to adjust the laces of his boots. After, he fidgeted, full of unasked questions and stealing the occasional glance.

Koujaku gave him a little nudge, “I don’t bite.”

Clear jumped and looked away, red-faced.

“How-” he cleared his throat, “-how do you know, if- if someone is… interested in you?”

For a moment, Koujaku was silent. Then, he barked a laugh, much to Clear’s indignance.

“Hey! Don't laugh, I'm serious!” Clear pouted, crossing his arms.

“Sorry, it's just-” he fought another bout of chuckles, “that’s something little kids ask. By your age most people have it figured out.”

“Well-!” Clear huffed, “Maybe I haven’t.”

Sobered, Koujaku thought for a moment.

“It's not always obvious. You can be just as interested in a friendship as a romance. And, the signs can be the same. They listen, they’re compassionate, and someone you can trust, but most importantly, they respect you.” he smiled fondly.

Clear nodded, but his eyes were unfocused, lost in thought.


End file.
